What You Feel
by SpyKid18
Summary: When Beca and Jesse are thrown together after their breakup for a joint Barden Bellas and Treblemakers gig tensions run high and awkwardness ensues. Beca/Jesse
1. What You Feel

**A/N: Couldn't resist writing this! Hope you enjoy :D**

What You Feel

They break up for the usual reasons. He expects too much of her and pushes too hard. Feeling threatened, she closes down and he eventually tires of trying to trying to get through her shell. His words sting when he tells her that he can't do it anymore.

"I thought this meant enough to you to open up a little. I thought I meant enough to you. But I was obviously wrong."

She wants to tell him that he's wrong but the indignant part of her sparks and burns at his tone and she spews back, "And here I was thinking that you wouldn't run away the minute things got hard. Obviously, I was wrong."

He leaves without another word and when the door slams shut she cries. She hates that he can do this to her. She was never a crier before. Now she's like a leaky faucet whenever he leaves.

The next day at rehearsal Abby and Chloe announce the next gig for the Barden Bellas. Abby pauses dramatically before telling them all that the Barden Bellas and Treblemakers would be combining for a gig the next month. The rest of the group titters and preens while Beca stands there and thinks, "Just my fucking luck."

Abby asks her to work on a few song compilations and she welcomes the distraction, already thinking of different mash-ups that she would work out on her computer. She brings them in the next week and unhappily finds the Treblemakers lounging with the Barden Bellas.

"You're okay with this right?" Chloe asks, standing next to Bella as she pulls up the songs on her computer. Chloe glances back at Jesse and says, "I mean, with Jesse being here and all? I know you guys didn't break up too long ago-"

"It's fine," Beca interrupts. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I'm totally fine."

She's not. She's a wreck and she feels it the entire rehearsal. Anytime she is moderately close to him she feels as if her skin is on fire and she has to remind herself to breath. For all intents and purposes, he seems entirely unaffected. While he doesn't talk to her, it's not a pointed avoidance. He naturally turns to one of his group members or jokes with one of the Barden Bellas. He effortlessly ignores her, which somehow makes it hurt more.

Her irritation builds until they are the last two gathering their things and she says sharply, "I see you're doing just fine."

He looks up at her with guarded eyes. "What?"

"You know what I mean."

He frowns and says, "Please Beca, be _more_ cryptic."

"You're acting like nothing happened!" she throws back. "Your acting like the past three months were nothing!"

"How do you want me to act?" he asks, voice rising.

"I don't know," she says, throwing up her arms. "Like you care?"

He shakes his head, jaw tensing. "Like I care? Really, Beca?"

"You know what, never mind," she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She turns to leave but he follows her.

"I care, Beca," he says, taking a hold of her arm. When she turns he lets go and his arms hang limply at his sides. "No matter how much you push me away, I will always care about you."

"I have to go," she says, awkwardly adjusting the strap of her messenger bag on her shoulder.

"Okay," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Then go."

She means to move, she really does, but her limbs seem to have a mind of their own. Her feet stay rooted in their place as he holds her gaze. She doesn't know what he's playing at over there. His gaze is challenging. And then she gets it. He doesn't want to be the one to walk away this time. Have it be on her for once. Well fine, she'd give him what she wants. She'll walk away. She'll be the bad guy.

She means to do all of this but then she steps forward and he follows her lead, and before she can fully think through what is happening their mouths meet messily. His arms slide around her waist and she threads her fingers through his hair, drawing his mouth firmer against hers.

His mouth against hers again feels like returning home after a long trip. It's safe and comforting. When she thinks about it, everything about him is.

Someone clears their throat behind them and they pull apart, both breathing heavily. Amy skirts past them with a little smirk and says, "Don't let me interrupt the make out session. Just forgot my sweatshirt."

Beca laughs into her hand while Jesse rubs his chin uncomfortably. It takes Amy longer than anticipated to find her sweatshirt and when she finally finds it she says, "There you are, you nasty bugger."

When she passes the pair she says, "Carry on."

"So," Beca begins, looking at Jesse. "On a scale of one to mortifying…"

"Nearly there," Jesse returns. "So, this means…"

"I will be getting texts from all of them in about two minutes," she says, anxiously putting her hand to her forehead. "And…"

"What do you tell them?" he finishes.

"What are we doing?" she asks helplessly, dropping her hand from her head. "I mean. I know what we were literally doing, but…"

He moves toward her and takes her hands in his. When she doesn't pull away – which he half expects – he tugs her toward him. His arms slide around her waist again and his mouth drops to hers.

"This doesn't change anything," she says before his mouth reaches hers. "There are very real reasons we didn't work, Jesse."

"And there are very real reasons why I don't care anymore," he says.

"Jesse, come on."

"I don't," he says, removing his arms from her waist and reaching up to cup her face. "Because at the end of the day I'd rather have our messed up relationship than not have one at all."

She smirks and says, "You're such a weirdo."

"Yeah, so are you," he murmurs, leaning his head forward. She reaches up and wraps her hands around his wrists as she leans into the kiss.

**A/N: Let me know if you like this! I have lots more Beca/Jesse up my sleeve ;)**


	2. Stay, Stay, Stay

**A/N: So, I've decided to turn this into a compilation of Jesse/Beca moments. Some will be missing moments during the film or slightly AU ones. Others will continue with this sort of after-the-movie theme. Hope you enjoy this!**

Stay, Stay, Stay

She's not used to needing someone. Growing up in a broken home, she learned quickly how to fend for herself. It meant shut down and deal with things yourself. Don't depend on others because they won't come through. But Jesse does, time after time. He's there even when she doesn't know she needs him.

Sometimes when she's really keyed up about school or a difficult Bellas rehearsal he'll do this thing where he brushes his thumb over her wrist's pulse point. It's barely noticeable to anyone else but them, but the simple touch is enough to relax her. Aubrey probably has this little maneuver to thank for her having all of her limbs, Jesse talking her down many times when she was on the war path after something the blonde had said.

She doesn't usually go to him herself, though. He's just there – miraculously so. She doesn't realize how much she has grown to depend on him until she has a fight with her dad one night and goes to his dorm room, knocking repeatedly on the door. It's late and Jesse is surprised when he sees her, dark khol smudged beneath her eyes.

"Beca, what's going on?" he asks softly, already pulling her into her bedroom. Benji is fast asleep in his bed and she keeps her voice down in accordance.

"I just needed to see you," she says, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

"Okay," he says, eyes trying to read something from her expressionless face. "Um, do you want to talk?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay, um, how about a movie? We can share headphones so we don't disturb sleeping beauty."

"You know I don't like movies."

"Give a guy a break here," Jesse sighs, mouth pulling into an exasperated grin. "I don't know what you want, Beca."

"I-I don't know," she stammers. She doesn't know why she came here or why him just standing there feels like cool water on a burn. She doesn't know anything.

"Can we just go to bed?" she asks.

"You want to stay?"

She nods and then adds, "If that's okay."

"Yeah, it's fine," he says quickly, moving toward the bed and throwing a few balled up hoodies onto the ground. She points at the one closest to her and asks, "Mind if I borrow that and a pair of boxers to sleep in?"

"Yeah, of course," he says. He moves to his dresser and pulls out a pair of boxers splattered with smiley faces. They are so blatantly him that she can't help but grin just a bit.

"Don't judge me too harshly," he says, handing them to her.

"I promise to save all comments until the morning."

'That is very much appreciated."

She gestures with the clothes that she's about to change and he dutifully turns toward his desk, walking over to it and fiddling around with a few things as she changes. When she's finished she walks over and touches his arm. He turns back and his eyes rove over her form in his clothes. He's much bigger than her and the clothes hang loosely on her frame.

"I was about to say you look good in my clothes, but they look like they're trying to eat you."

She smirks and swats his arm. "Shut up, nerd."

"What? Just pointing out the glaringly obvious," he says, chuckling. She gives him a look and he relents, holding up his hands as he says, "Alright, I cave. Bed?"

She nods and follows him to his bed. This is her first time spending the night and she doesn't exactly know what to do with herself. He scoots in first and then she settles next to him. She turns into him without even meaning to, her chin resting on his chest. Feeling his heat beat, she decides she likes it there.

"Are you going to tell me why you're really here?" he whispers.

"I thought we were sleeping," she mumbles against his chest.

"I require full knowledge as to why a lady is in my bed. House rule."

She waits it out until he shifts under her, coming up on his elbows as he says, "Seriously, Beca, I thought we were past this whole you keeping things from me thing."

"Sshh," she says, pushing him gently back onto the bed. "I'll tell you."

"Okay," he relents, settling back on the mattress.

"My dad and I had a fight," Beca says, propping her chin on his chest. "I went there for dinner and he got into me about choosing a career that will land me on a street corner in a cardboard box."

"I bet you it'll be a really cool cardboard box."

"He just doesn't understand," Beca says, running her fingers over the material of his shirt. "I thought he did but…"

"He'll come around," Jesse tells her, wrapping his arm tighter around her waist.

"Whatever," she says, turning her face so that her cheek rests on his chest. "It doesn't matter. In four years I'm out of here anyway."

He brushes his lips against her hair and repeats, "He'll come around."

She almost believes him, which is saying something because she never believes anyone when they say things like that about her dad. When people tell her things will work out she always thinks they're full of it, but something about the words coming from him give them more weight.

"I like your boxers," she says softly, burrowing herself closer to him. He chuckles a bit and says, "You do?"

"They're very manly. I can just feel the testosterone radiating from them."

"Alright, I think it's time for bed."

"Do you have a matching t-shirt? You know, smiles all around?"

"Good night, Beca."

She grins. "Night Jesse."

**A/N: This was a huge fluff-ball and I am not ashamed one bit! Let me know how you liked this!**


	3. Beer Pong Wizard

**A/N: I am a writing beast for this story. I just keep getting so many random ideas. Hope you enjoy this! I imagine this happening somewhere after the riff-off. **

Beer Pong Wizard

She doesn't want to be at the party. She hates it with every fiber of her being, yet she stands at the side of the room with Amy, watching Chloe dance with some fraternity guy. He said he was a Delta or maybe it was a Sig. None of it really mattered to Beca as he prattled it off with a little too much nonchalance for her liking, so she'd only been partially listening, taking in the hot mess of the party surrounding them as he talked.

Normally she would avoid something like a fraternity party with every maneuver she knew, but Chloe and Aubrey had insisted that it was part of the Barden Bella's bonding that they go together. Beca thought it was a load of crap then and continues thinking that as she slowly drains her beer.

"She's working him like a pole," Amy says, cocking her head to the side as Chloe drops down the length of her guy and then snakes back up.

"Yeah," Beca says, taking a sip of her drink. "She sure is."

"I can't decide if that's awesome or not."

"I'd go more along the lines of disturbing," Beca says. "But, hey, what do I know?"

"I need to find myself some man meat," Amy says casually, smacking her lips together as she surveys the crowd. "Pickings are slim here. A bunch of boys - I need a man."

Beca snorts. "I'm sure you do."

"How about you?"

Beca laughs – the sound more akin to a bark than a laugh – and says, "This is not my scene."

"No?"

"About as far as you can get from it," Beca says. "I'm here as a Bella hostage and nothing more."

Amy spots someone over by the keg and grins wide. Rocking on her heels she looked over at Beca and says, "I think that's about to change."

"Huh?"

Amy knocks her elbow into hers and points toward Jesse who is attempting to fill his cup with beer. He doesn't seem to know how to work the nozzle, though, and he stands there with an empty cup, staring at the keg in confusion.

"You're wrong," Beca says, shaking her head. "I've said it once and I'll say it again. I have zero interest in Jesse."

"Okay, you may have been able to convince me before the riff-off but afterwards, no way. You had some off the charts sexual chemistry. I half expected you guys to go at it right there."

"Ew, that's disgusting," Beca says, making a face. "Besides, there was mold in that pool."

Amy laughs. "So it's the pool that turns you off, not Jesse? I knew it!"

"Whoah, way to twist my words," Beca says, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably. "I just mean…"

She trails off when she notices Jesse still trying to fill his cup. A line has formed and no one even attempts to help him. She notices they're getting antsy.

"You have got to be kidding me," Beca says. "Okay, do not read into what I am about to do."

"What are you going to do?"

"Save Jesse from being beaten up by beer-deprived meatheads. I'll be right back."

Beca walks over to Jesse and behind her Amy yells, "Definitely reading into this!"

Beca almost has to laugh at the look of determination on Jesse's face as he ineffectually attempts to work the nozzle. His eyes are serious, mouth screwed into a frown at the side of his face. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was working through some Thucydides or Aristotle.

"Move over, nerd," she says, taking the cup from his hand. He glances over at her, and she can tell he's embarrassed because he doesn't utter a single quip.

"You need to pump the keg first," she instructs. "Then, you fill your cup."

Jesse takes the full cup from her and says, "I'd try to be all manly and I say that I knew that but…"

"But you didn't and created a fifteen person line for beer?" she finishes.

"That's inaccurate," he answers, glancing back at the line. "It's eight – ten people tops."

"How do you not know how to use a keg?"

"I don't know. Not exactly a staple at our family holidays," he replies sarcastically.

She smirks and says, "It's a basic college skill, Jesse. You gotta get going on acquiring those."

"I will. Today will be my first lesson."

He takes a sip of his drink, eyes dancing above the cup. Right then she thinks to herself that he is too smooth for his own good.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Just soaking up the Greek life," she answers easily. "If all goes as planned I'll end up in a Delta's bed by morning."

Jesse smirks and says, "This is a Sigma party."

"Even more reason to bed a Delt."

"Let me guess," he begins, narrowing his eyes. "This is…a forced outing by the Bellas."

"Ding ding," Beca says, raising her drink. "He gets it on the first try. How about you? Where are the rest of you Treblemakers?"

"I don't know. I'm an independent contractor tonight. Well, not if you count Benji. He's over doing magic tricks for a girl he met, but…"

"You two wandered out into the wilderness on your own? That's very brave of you."

"I like to think so. We've regular Indiana Joneses."

She stares at him blankly and he says, "Don't tell me you've never seen _Indiana Jones_."

"No, I've seen it," she returns. "I just wanted to see how freaked out you'd be at the prospect that I hadn't."

He laughs, shaking his head. "So, anyway, what do people do at these parties?"

"Drink and grope each other, apparently. For the record, I am only doing the first with you."

"Are you saying you won't grope with me?" Jesse asks with mock disbelief. "And here I was thinking we were friends."

She gives him a look and says, "Not a chance, buddy."

He looks at something over her shoulder and grins wide. Before she can ask what it is that caught his attention he takes a hold of her arm and says, "I know exactly what we are doing next."

"Huh? What are you…" she trails off when she sees the beer pong table. She pulls her arm from his grasp and says, "Nope. There is no way I am playing this idiotic game."

"Come on, Beca. You said we had to rack up basic college skills. Even you cannot argue that beer pong is not one of those."

She gives him a challenging look and asks, "And your point?"

"I've never played before. You've clearly never played before."

"You don't know that," she counters.

"Okay, fine, have you?"

She frowns and says, "Well, no, but that's beside the point-"

"That is very much the point," he cuts in. "Basic college skills, Beca. Your words not mine."

"I was making fun of you," she throws back. "Those words are not something to take seriously or hold me to!"

Jesse begins to laugh at that and she stares at him in confusion, mouth pressing into a frown before she snaps, "What's so funny?"

"I get it now."

"Get what?"

"You think I'll be better than you."

"Better than me? This, coming from the guy who couldn't work a keg?"

Jesse nods in acquiescence of his previous faux pas and says, "Regardless of my keg difficulties, I have remarkable hand eye coordination. You should see me play ping pong. I've been told it's a revelation."

She snorts and says, "A revelation? Really?"

"I think beer pong could be my next calling." She gives him a look and he continues. "All this time I've been searching for that one thing that would complete me. The thing that would make me whole. Maybe, just maybe, this hallowed collegiate game will-"

"If we play will you stop talking?"

His mouths pulls into that stupid wide grins of his and he says, "That is a very real possibility."

"Fine," she relents. "One game. And then I am going home because there is a fine line between Bella bonding and hazing."

He doesn't push any further and she can see he's pretty damn full of himself for getting this far. To his credit, she can't think of anyone else who could have. They wait over at the side of the table as the game finishes. Jesse's oddly quiet and she jokes, "What, are you studying their technique?"

"No, I'm preparing myself for awesomeness."

She snorts. "You're so full of it."

The game ends and they take their spots at the losing side of the table. Beca hopes it's an omen and the game goes by quickly. The floor is sticky around the table and she feels like she should have been in bed hours ago.

"You guys go first," the other side says, their words rushing into each other in a drunken slur.

"You want to start us off, all star?" she asks Jesse with a deceptively innocent look. He shakes his head and says, "Ladies first."

"Alrighty then," she says, picking up the ping pong ball. She did a few test flicks of her wrist before executing a short toss. It bounces off the table a good two feet in front of the cups and rolls off the table.

"Wow. You are really bad at this."

"Shut up."

He goes to return with some goading remark when the other team sinks the ping pong ball into one of their back cups.

"Drink up, bitches!" one of them yells, laughing uproariously as they high-five their partner.

"Well, that certainly was not directed toward me," Beca says, turning toward Jesse. "Drink up, bitch."

Jesse gives her a look before picking up the cup and draining it.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," Beca says, rubbing her hands together in feigned anticipation as he prepared to shoot. To both of their surprise, he executes a perfect toss into one of the side cups.

"Not bad," she says appreciatively, nodding her head as the other team drank.

The game continues for the next twenty or thirty minutes, Beca getting increasingly worse as Jesse continues to land throws. At one point she hits someone in the head and she turns away quickly, pointing at Jesse and saying, "He did it!"

"Alright, last cup," Jesse says, handing the ping pong ball to Beca. Both teams are down to their final cup and the pressure is surprisingly high. Beca didn't think she would care about a stupid game of beer pong, but with Jesse being halfway decent she found herself being swept up in the game. "No pressure, but our winning and losing pretty much relies on you now."

She gives him a look. "Wow, that's comforting."

"Just do your best. And, uh, you know, don't mess up."

She stares the cup down, trying to visualize her throw. Taking a deep breach, she focuses all her attention on the cup before snapping her wrist forward and releasing the ball. She holds her breath until the ball drops into the cup.

"Oh my God, I did it!" she cries out, clapping her hands together excitedly. She knows it's just a stupid game at a stupid frat party, but she'd be damned if she wasn't excited. Jesse makes some sort of whooping noise as he pumps his fist in the air. When she turns toward him he wraps his arms tightly around her waist and lifts her off the ground as he spins her around once. When she's back on solid ground she can hardly breathe.

The next team takes the place of the losing duo and Jesse tells them, "I'm afraid we are a one-game team. Gotta leave when we're on top."

They wander back into the crowd and she feels his hand press against her back as they make their way back to Amy. He leans forward and his breath his hot on her neck when he asks, "Are you still thinking of heading back?"

She ignores the rush she feels at his close proximity and answers, "Yeah, why?"

"I'll walk you back. I'm beat."

"You don't have to," she says immediately.

"It's on my way," he returns. "Besides, you shouldn't be walking back alone at this time."

She doesn't argue with him and when they find Amy she tells her that they are heading out. Amy grins devilishly and says, "Alright. Make good choices."

Beca gives her a tight smile and says, "Not funny. Bye Amy."

Amy simply shrugs with her usual wide grin and calls after them, "Bye guys!"

"So, what are these good choices we're supposed to be making?" Jesse asks her, glancing over with a knowing look.

"Seriously, do you want me to push you into oncoming traffic?"

"That's an empty threat," he returns easily. "There're no cars out."

"Hey, what about Benji?" Beca asks suddenly, remembering that Jesse had come with his roommate. "Should we have gotten him?"

Jesse shakes his head. "Nah, I saw him on our way out. He looked to be making a pretty good impression on that girl."

"Who would've known that out of the two of you Benji would be the ladies man," Beca teases. "I think I befriended the wrong roommate."

Jesse answers levelly, "I'm sure tonight's not a closer. I can still slip him your phone number."

"You know, I think I would be too much woman for Benji," Beca returns.

Jesse snorts. "You know, I won't argue that."

They're quiet for a bit a comfortable silence falling between them as they walked. A car passes and Jesse lets out a low whistle before saying, "I was worried there for a moment. Thought you were going to make nice on that threat of pushing me into oncoming traffic."

Beca laughs. "I'm waiting for a speeder. You know, to get the optimal level of damage."

"You are diabolical."

Beca nods and says, "With the laugh to match."

"So, how did you end up here?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, glancing over at him.

"In college, I mean. Seems like you pretty much have what you want to do set. Didn't you think it would make more sense to move to L.A. or something?"

Beca tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, thinking to herself that he had just voiced basically her entire opinion on the situation. "My dad insisted that I do the full undergrad thing first. He's a professor here so I go for free."

"He hoping you'll come to your senses?"

Beca laughs. "Probably. I won't, though. Music is the only thing I've really loved my entire life."

"Me too," he says. She looks over at him and he says, "Movie scores, remember?"

"And why are you here? Shouldn't you be out in stalking John Williams or something?"

"I'm more of a Danny Elfman guy," Jesse returns with a grin. "And my parents had a similar – give the college thing a try – mentality."

"Look at us. Biding our time in undergrad hell."

"It's not that bad," he says with a shrug. "I like the Treblemakers and the people here aren't half bad."

She catches his underlying meaning and smirks. "Is that so?"

"Well, besides you, of course. Because you're awful."

She laughs, stopping in front of her building. Surprisingly, she finds herself wishing they had a few more blocks.

"Well, then thank God we're here," she says. "You won't have to suffer through one more moment with me."

"I'm glad," he returns in like. "I was running out of non-offensive things to say."

Another car passes and someone cat-calls at them through the rolled-down window. She laughs, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Never a non-douchey moment, huh?"

Jesse holds his arms out and says, "Welcome to college."

"Thanks for walking me home," she says, beginning to turn toward the door. "I'm sure about eight robbers were deterred by your menacing presence."

He shrugs with a grin and says, "I do what I can. Good night, Beca."

"Night Jesse."

She heads upstairs and into her dorm room. Her roommate is already asleep so she attempts to get herself ready for bed without turning on the light. Besides one particularly painful collision with her nightstand, Beca gets into bed unscathed. She turns on her side and presses her eyes closed. Her thoughts drift back to the party and Jesse trying to work the keg. Laughing softly to herself she thinks, "What a nerd."

With that thought, she drifts asleep.

**A/N: Not as cheese-bally as the others but...pretty close. lol This story WILL be continued, so PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK. I see y'all adding it to favorites and author alerts - which I do appreciate - but I'd appreciate your thoughts on this even more :D**


	4. Game-cation

**A/N: Random scene that snowballed into something a lot bigger. Hope you all like it!**

Game-cation

"We should play a game," Jesse says, leafing through a pile of CDs. Not missing a beat, Beca continues to sort through her pile and returns, "No."

"Come on, it would make the time pass."

"I'm not playing some stupid game," she says.

"How do you know it'll be stupid?" he asks.

"I'll give you one guess," she returns sarcastically, scanning the tracks on the back of a _Wings _album. She doesn't see anything good and puts it one top of one of the many organized piles.

"Are you saying I come up with stupid games?"

"You wanted to play I-spy yesterday," she reminds him with the same level of disdain she displayed when he first suggested the game.

"I stand by that recommendation," he says. "I-spy is a great game. It's a classic."

"It's stupid. And should only be played as an absolute last resort on long car rides."

"Last resort?"

"Yeah. No iPod. Broken radio or one of those stretches of road where all you get is static."

"You're underestimating the game. And for the record, that's not what I was going to suggest."

She glances over at him and asks, "What were you going to suggest then?"

"I'm not going to tell you now," he answers. "You've shown where you stand on my game-picking-ability. I don't know if my fragile gaming-ego can take another blow."

She snorts and says, "I think your gaming-ego will be just fine."

"You know, you could choose the game," Jesse suggests with feigned nonchalance.

"Sure, how about a game called silence?"

Jesse considers it for a moment and then says, "I don't think that's a real thing."

"Really? What makes you think that?"

He grins wide, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. He looks young when he smiles – like a little kid opening presents on Christmas morning. Beca finds it more endearing than she'd ever admit.

Jesse returns to his work and picks up an album, scanning the tracks on the back before putting it in a small pile that she'd noticed he'd begun at the beginning of the shift.

"What're you doing?" she asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

"What am I doing? Well, you see, this is called sorting through CDs. You've actually been doing it for the past three weeks."

She gives him a look and says, "I know that. I mean what are you doing putting all those CDs to the side like that? I can read the titles from here and if that's your idea of sorting, we may need to re-teach you the alphabet."

"It's my gift pile."

"Your gift pile?" she repeats slowly. "Why do you have a gift pile?"

"Beca, think about that question for more than two seconds and you'll have your answer."

She notices the top CD on the pile and says, "What poor guy is getting Paul McCartney's _Memory Almost Full? _Spoiler alert, they're going to be disappointed when they open it up."

"I think you meant poor woman," Jesse corrects. "It's for my mom. She's a big Paul McCartney fan. And before you say anything further, yes, she is even for this album. And it's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Beca returns incredulously. "On a scale of bad to awful, that CD is just around your car getting stuck in a blizzard with no heat, food or bottles to pee in."

"Do girls pee in bottles? I don't think that's anatomically possible."

"My point is that that album is awful."

"Yes," Jesse says, nodding slowly. "I got that from the whole broken-down-in-a-blizzard scenario you painted. And might I add, you painted the scene well. Lots of vivid imagery there."

She senses his sarcasm and says, "Fine, I'll back off. But you should look through some of the albums here. There's a pretty good McCartney collection."

"Hold on," Jesse says, "Are you saying that you _spy_ a banging McCartney collection?"

"Stop trying to make I-spy happen," she throws back. "But hypothetically speaking, yes I do. And it is 100 times better than that sorry excuse for an album."

"You have strong feelings on this," he says with a smirk. "Who would've known that subpar McCartney albums would bring out such a fiery side? And by the way, I-spy has already happened. I hear it's very big among the 7-12 year old crowd."

She snorts, shaking her head. "And you honestly still wonder why I don't want to play it?"

"Hey, don't hate on the demographic. Pretty sure _Operation _is geared toward them, too, and that's a fantastic game." She stares at him blankly and he says, "Please tell me you've played _Operation_."

She screws her mouth to the side and shakes her head slightly as she gives a no-I-haven't-played shrug.

"This is just unacceptable," Jesse says. He takes a deep breath and says, "I guess a game-cation will have to be added along with the movie-cation. You busy tonight? Because we have our work cut out for ourselves."

"You do realize that you are planning all of these "-cations" without my input."

"Well, yeah. You'd say no otherwise."

She laughs. "At least you're not deluded."

They continue their CD sorting with the usual repartee as Jesse discovers more basic childhood games that she hadn't played. He gets more disturbed by each omission and nearly knocks over an entire sorted stack when she tells him she's never played _The Game of Life_. That night he shows up at her dorm room with pizza and two board games boxes shoved under his arm.

"You weren't kidding about this," she says, letting him pass.

"I never kid about board games."

They spend the night playing _Candyland _and _Operation, _and she can't tell if her having fun is due to the games or just him. He plays the games with attentiveness that she finds largely unnecessary, but she can't help but smile when he tries to remove the _Operation _dude's spleen, focus entirely on the small little hole as he tries to keep a steady hand. She purposely plays sloppily, enjoying the exasperation he shows every time she presses the tongs to the side of the hole.

"I think it's safe to say you're not going to be a surgeon," he says after she hits the edge again, taking the tongs from her.

She hides her smile and says, "Well, thank you for clearing that up for me."

"Now me, on the other hand." He dips the tongs carefully into the little grove that holds the liver and pulls it out without hitting the sides. "Hands of a surgeon."

"Too bad you lack all the other parts."

He grins. "Don't be hating now just because you have shaky hands."

She licks her lips, giving him a look. "Give me the tongs."

"Fiesty."

"Tongs, Jesse. Now."

He hands them over and she gives him a look before leaning over the most difficult piece and effortlessly removing it. She glances back up at him with a triumphant grin.

"Not bad," he acquiesces. "Could be a fluke, though."

"Fluke my ass. I just liked watching you get upset when I'd hit the edge."

"I did not get upset."

"Yeah, you sort of did," she counters. "You'd get all exasperated and shake your head at my poor motor skills." She laughs at the look he gives her and tacks on, "It was sort of cute."

From the look on his face she can see that he never expected her to equate anything involving him as cute, and she has to admit that she never really thought she would either. Even using the word cute is sort of outside her general lexicon, but she can think of no other way to describe his behavior.

He's looking at her now. He's always looking at her – at the CD shop or when they hang out – but this time it's different. She doesn't quite know where to place the feeling that his eyes thoughtfully studying her face stirs in her, but she would guess somewhere between mild curiosity and discomfort. Despite an overwhelming urge to stand up and begin babbling – anything to break up the moment - she finds herself wanting to know what happens next.

And she knows. She knows when he shifts his weight and when he slowly leans toward her, his hand finding the back of her neck as he guides her mouth to his. She starts to pull back but then his mouth is on hers and she finds her body going completely still. His lips are soft and the scent of skin makes thinking difficult. Thankfully, she doesn't have much need for thought at the moment. It's instinct that makes her lean forward, hand pressing heavily on his leg as she seeks some stability in the racing of her pulse. His other hand finds her waist and she can feel the heat of his palm through the thin material of her shirt. She scoots forward and she's nearly straddling him, all thought and reason completely out of her grasp as he drags his lips down to her neck. She presses even closer and he shifts beneath her, his foot ramming into the game board. It buzzes loudly and the moment is broken. They pull apart and she falls back onto her hands, scooting back.

"Beca-"

"This-this never happened," she says quickly, dragging the back of her hand against her mouth. She stands up shakily and continued with, "This should not have happened. It-"

"Beca, you can't be serious," he says, standing up quickly to follow her.

"This shouldn't have happened. I mean, what are we playing at? This is ridiculous. This-"

He moves forward and takes a hold of her face, covering her mouth with his. She's taken by surprise, but her lips move against his instinctually. He's still kissing her but her mind comes back full-force and she takes a hold of his wrists, pushing him away.

"Beca-"

"We shouldn't be doing this! We…no. We just can't. I can't."

"Can you honestly say that felt wrong?" he demands. "Tell me, can you say that felt wrong or ridiculous?"

She doesn't answer because the answer is no. It felt wonderful and exhilarating. It was something completely crazy and everything that she didn't know how to handle. He moves forward hesitantly, waiting to see if she would step away. When she doesn't he comes closer, placing his hands gently on her waist.

"I'm not good at this," she says, avoiding his gaze. "I…I don't know how to do this."

"Not exactly a Casanova myself," he returns. "Come on, Beca, give this a chance. Give _me _a chance."

She thinks his words over as they stand there, neither of them speaking. Give him a chance. She's never given anyone a chance. It's always been easier to just push them away and move on. Less pain in the long run. Less chance of disappointment. But then she's back at that kiss and she thinks that there'd be a lot less of that, too. Less movie-cations. Less Jesse.

"Okay," she says, lifting her chin to meet his gaze.

"Okay?"

She nods, reaching up and drawing his face to hers. Against his mouth she murmurs, "Okay."

**A/N: Schmoopy to the max. I have no regrets.**

**Also, I want to put it out there that I'm open to requests for scenes/scenarios. Either leave them in your review or PM me and I'll give them a go!**


	5. Jack the Christmas Elf

**A/N: This is a short little ditty inspired by a prompt from reviewer Blair. It's in the holiday spirit and perhaps my favorite one I've written for this! Hope you enjoy :D**

Jack the Christmas Elf

It all started one afternoon over a lunch of Chinese food and mountain dew (a strange combination that they both agreed strangely worked) and she revealed a small slice of her largely unhappy childhood.

"My parents had this stupid Christmas tradition where they would hide this little elf toy around the house."

"An elf toy?"

Beca nodded, taking a bite of her mushu pork "Its name was Jack the Elf and they'd put him in all these random places each night to surprise me the next day."

"Some random elf hiding in the house? That sounds disturbing."

She gave him a look and said, "It was cute. And it's not like it was a _real_ elf. It was a toy."

Jesse nodded. "Alright, I see your point."

"Anyway, I know it sounds stupid, but some of my best childhood memories were of finding that elf."

"It's not stupid," Jesse said.

"Yeah, it kind of is," Beca said. "I mean, my best childhood memories are of a toy elf? I feel like somewhere there's a Lifetime movie being penned about exactly this."

Jesse snorted. "You should try to get royalties."

"It was exciting, though. I remember waking up and wondering where I would find it that day. One time my parents forgot to hide it and I cried until my dad snuck it into one of the pantries and pretended that he found it."

"You were, what, like fifteen at the time, right?" Jesse teased.

"Shut up," Beca returned, smiling slightly. "It was a nice tradition. Even kids with messed up childhoods like myself can appreciate a good tradition."

Beca didn't think much of the conversation after they had cleaned up their lunch and continued stacking CDs at the radio station. It wasn't really a groundbreaking one – no big confessions or breakdowns. So, she forgot all about it until one day she went to shelve a few ska records and found a small elf stuffed-animal wedged between _The Skatalites_ and_ Streetflight Manifesto_.

"Jesse," she said loudly, staring at the elf. He came over quickly, his eyes wide with alarm, but she saw him visibly relax when he noticed the elf.

"What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Beca said, pointing at the elf. "What's this?"

"Well, that just looks like your friendly CD-store elf."

"And how did it manage to get here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I have no idea," Jesse said, the picture of innocence.

"So, this has nothing to do with that Jack the Elf story I told you?"

"Jack the Elf," Jesse repeated slowly, rubbing his chin. "No, not ringing any bells. Buddy the Elf, maybe, but Jack…"

"You are so full of it," she said, picking up the Elf and throwing it at him. He laughed, catching it on its rebound off his chest.

"You know, I thought we were past abusing elves!" he called after her as she headed back to the main table.

Over the next week she found the CD-store elf in a variety of different places. The next time it was in a potted plant over by the radio booth. After that it was nestled on the water fountain. Her personal favorite was when it sat between the bars of the railing on the second floor of the station with a little sign that read, "I'm going to jump!".

"Think we should talk him down?" Jesse asked, glancing up at the stuffed elf.

"I don't know, what do you say to a suicidal elf?"

"Well, clearly that it gets better. We have Dobby as proof of that."

She snorted, shaking her head. "You are such a nerd."

The last day before Christmas break she found it sitting on top of the stack of CDs that she was going to be sorting that afternoon. Jesse was seated at one of the other tables already, working on some homework. Luke wasn't always in the studio and Jesse had long ago taken to doing work when Luke wasn't there to either yell at him or demand lunch. She sat opposite him, elbows propped on the table while she played silently with the elf. He looked up at her and smiled when he saw the elf in her hand.

"I see you found our elf friend. Not the best hiding place today, though. The hider must have run out of ideas. Probably because he had such awesome ones before."

"Thank you," she said abruptly, a bit uncomfortable with the admission. She had trouble thanking people, and in this instance she didn't really even know what she was thanking him for. But she felt she had to thank him for something.

"I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did," she said. "And I don't offer thanks often, so…take it."

Jesse smiled slightly. "Alright. You're welcome."

"By the way, if you mention that elf story to anyone else, I will personally make sure your balls never function again."

Jesse stared at her and said, "Alright. I will keep that one to myself."

"I need to get back to work."

When she left that night and went back to her dorm she found the elf tucked in her schoolbag with a note taped to its belly. She pulled off the note and opened it up, smiling softly as she read its message.

_Happy Holiday, Beca._

_Sincerely,_

_Jesse & the CD-store Elf_

**A/N: So, this Christmas elf thing is actually a thing people do. How adorable is that? When I have kids I am 100% doing this. Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed this! Keep the suggestions coming! I never would have thought of this without that suggestion :D**


	6. The Date

**A/N: This is based off one of the deleted scenes from the DVD where Beca and Luke go on a date. Hope you enjoy!**

The Date

"Colors! There are so many beautiful colors!" Luke exclaims, draping his arm over Beca's shoulder as he gestures toward something that only he can see. "Do you see them dancing, Becks? Do you see the dancing colors?"

"Nope, those are all you," Beca says, gritting her teeth as he loses his balance and nearly takes both of them down. She doesn't know at what point in the night he ingested whatever illegal substance that was making him see dancing lights, but she does know that it appears to be taking its full effect. He gestures widely at nothing in particular, prattling on things that don't even resemble making sense.

"I think it's time we get you home," Beca says, heading toward the door.

"You should come with," he says, his hand clapping against her collarbone. It inches lower as he adds, "I have a very roomy bed."

She shakes her head and returns, "Good for you and your bed. Which way was it to the bus station again?"

"This way and everyway," he says stoically.

"Very helpful," she snipes, craning her neck to get a look down the street. It's dark out and she can just catch the outline of the bus vestibule about a block and a half down the street. "Alright, come on Luke, let's try walking. One foot in front of the other, yeah?"

"I can walk," he returns. "I'm a great walker. The best!"

"That's great," she says in a coddling tone, still supporting half his weight as they slowly make their way to the bus vestibule. "Think you can straighten up a bit there?"

"I'm perfectly straight."

"No, no you're not. See, me hunching over holding half your weight shows that you're not standing straight."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"No," she says, frowning. "You wouldn't. Alright, almost there."

When they get to the bus vestibule she removes his arm from her shoulder and positions him in front of the wall with a simple instruction of, "Lean."

She sits on the bench and tries to remember why she agreed to go with Luke to hear this band, anyway. She glances over at him with his distressed jean jacket and tousled hair and immediately remembers why.

_That's what you get for agreeing to go out with a guy only because he's hot_, Beca thinks to herself.

She stands back up and walks over to the small sign that tells what bus lines pass through and how often. She remembers that they took the 147 bus, and she looks for the line on the sign.

"Shit," she murmurs, seeing that the line stopped running an hour ago. "Luke, you know any other line that takes us back to campus?"

"The red line. Blue line-"

"Yeah, those aren't things."

"Green line. Yellow line."

She stares at him and asks, "Are you just naming primary colors?"

He doesn't respond and she shakes her head, running her fingers through her hair anxiously. "Um, okay, I can fix this. I…" she pulls out her phone and scrolls through the numbers, "I can fix this."

She hits the call button and chews on her bottom lip as she waits for the call to be picked up.

"Beca?"

"Hey, Chloe, thank God you answered, I-"

"Beca?" Chloe repeats, loud music blaring behind her. "Beca, you should totally come out! This is, like, the most super run party ever. Like, ever ever!"

Beca feels her stomach twist when she says, "You are not in any shape to drive are you?"

Chloe responds by squealing and singing along to some Rihanna song with a guy that Beca's pretty sure is tone deaf.

"Alright, guess this isn't happening," Beca says, hanging up. She glances over at Luke who is slumped against the wall of the vestibule and says, "This right here, buddy? Not cool. How the hell are we supposed to get home?"

If Chloe was at a party that means that the rest of the Bellas probably were, too. The few that she can think of who maybe are home don't have a car. She's about to give up when she gets an idea. She scrolls through her phone again and hesitates for just a moment before dialing.

"Hello?"

"Hey Jesse, want to do me a huge favor?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later he pulls up in front of the bus vestibule and she walks over to Luke, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the car. Jesse climbs out of the front seat and says, "You didn't mention you were with Luke."

"Oh really? Must have slipped my mind."

"Yeah, it must have" he says, giving her a look. He opens the back door and helps Luke in. Before he closes the door he tells him, "No puking. This isn't my car."

"This isn't your car?" Beca asks.

"No, it's Benji's. He let me use it because was worried about you being out alone so late. Looks like he didn't have to worry."

She looks away quickly and walks over to the passenger seat and slips in. Jesse slides into the driver's seat and shifts the gear into drive.

"Am I in a space ship?" Luke drawls from the back, leaning forward and bracing his hands on the back of the seats as Jesse drives.

"No, this is called a car," Jesse answers sarcastically. "I know things are different in England, but I'm pretty sure they have them there, too."

"Be nice," Beca says in a low voice. "He's strung out on something."

Jesse gives her a look and says, "Gee, you think?"

"Are we going to Mars?" Luke continues. "Or Jupiter. Let's go to Jupiter!"

"How about we go somewhere where you don't talk," Jesse suggests.

"Luke, behave," Beca says, turning back and pushing him away from their seats. "You're distracting Jesse."

"Right, put it on me," Jesse gripes. "So, you both getting dropped off at his place?"

"What? No! He's going to his place and I'm going to my place. End of story."

"Not a ridiculous question," Jesse says in a hard voice. "I am picking you guys up at one in the morning."

"You know me," she says. "So, yeah, ridiculous question."

He shakes his head and returns, "No, I don't know you. I thought I did."

She goes to say something when Luke snores loudly from the back seat. She glances back and says, "How can he be asleep already? He was just talking."

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Shit, I don't." She turns back to wake Luke up when Jesse reaches out and stops her.

"No, I got it."

"Huh? You know where he lives?"

"He's had me feed his dog a few times on my way back from getting him lunch."

"Then why did you-"

"I wanted to know if you knew."

The implication is clear and she stares at him for a moment before tearing her eyes away and gazing out the window. The car is completely silent except for Luke's soft snoring. After a few moments she says, "It wasn't a date."

Jesse doesn't respond but she can feel his gaze turn toward her and then back toward the road.

"I mean, maybe it was," she says. "I don't know. But, it's not…he's not-"

"It's fine. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm not your boyfriend, right?"

She turns her head and looks at him, noticing the way his jaw is tense. He's fighting back saying more, she can tell.

"Jesse-"

"Just forget it," he says. "We're here."

He pulls up at an apartment building and turns off the car. They climb out in complete silence and haul Luke up the three flights of stairs to his apartment. He nearly takes them down twice, but they manage to get him onto his couch without much issue. They walk back downstairs and then they are on their way to her dorm. Both are silent still and with each passing moment of not-talking she finds herself with more and more to say.

"Jesse," she says, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silence of the car. "I'm sorry about what I said before. When you called my dad and I freaked out at you, it's-"

"It's fine," he says.

"No, it's not," she tells him. "It's not fine. Look, I don't know how to accept help from people. I never have. And you calling my dad – we don't exactly have the best relationship."

"I didn't know that."

"No," she says softly. "You didn't. So, well, I'm just sorry for being a jerk. You didn't deserve that."

He pauses for a moment and then says, "Okay."

"And I'm sorry for making you pick me up from whatever that was with Luke. That was pretty jerky, too. But I honestly had no one else to call. Believe me, if there was anyone else, like _anyone_-"

"It's fine," he says, chuckling slightly. "I don't mind picking you up. I don't mind helping. Am I happy you were on a date with Luke-"

"Jesse, I told you-"

"I mean, I get it," he interrupts. "He played your music. He said you were good. It's natural that you'd get all starry-eyed and all that."

"Okay, first of all, never in my life have I been remotely starry-eyed. And second, I know you're the one who made him listen to my music."

"What?"

"I asked what made him finally listen to it, and he said it was you. Apparently you're not only annoyingly persistent with me."

"Your music is good. It deserves to be listened to."

She looks at him then – really looks at him – and she sees it, the inherent goodness that was so rare to find in guys or people in general. She never believed it when people told her nice guys were out there, because all she had met were the ones who tried to unclasp your bra on the first date. But here he is, proving that his entire gender is not patently flawed.

"Why are you so nice?" she murmurs.

"What?"

"You annoy people into listening to my music. You go out of your way to help me. You drive out here at one in the morning to pick me up-"

"Why do you think?" he asks. "Why do you think I do all of those things? I like you, Beca. I like you. And when you likes someone, you do whatever you can to help and be near that person. You do whatever you can, even if it means picking that person up at one in the morning with her strung out whatever-Luke-is."

"Jesse," she says slowly. "I'm not…"

"I know," he says, parking in front of her dorm. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying."

She tucks her hair behind her ear and swallows hard. She can't exactly say that confession came out of left field, but it still left her reeling.

"It really wasn't a date," she repeats. "Okay?"

"Okay. You better head inside," he says.

"Yeah," she answers quickly. "Let's hope that Kimmy Jin doesn't kill me."

"I'm pretty sure you could take her."

She smiles slightly. "Thanks again, Jesse. For everything."

"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow."

She nods, getting out of the car. Before she closes the door she says, "Goodnight, Jesse."

"Night Beca."

**A/N: I'd love your feedback!**


	7. Christmas Dinner With the Swansons

**A/N: This is partially based off my own Christmas - which is why it is posted two days after. Hope you enjoy this little slice of belated-Christmas-joy. Btw - I think I remember somewhere in the DVD extras that Jesse's last name is Swanson. If not, well, then it is here. **

Christmas Dinner With the Swansons

"Beca, it's so nice that you're here with us," Jesse's mom says, practically beaming as she plops a heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes on her plate. Beca's eyes go wide as another spoonful follows.

"Yeah, thanks for having me," Beca says, eyes watching the spoon as she wonders whether she will get a third spoonful. She breathes a sigh of relief when the spoon goes back in the bowl, but then Mrs. Swanson starts on the corn casserole.

"It must have been pretty difficult for your parents to give you up on such a special day," Mrs. Swanson says with a little grin. Beca nods, although that is as far from the truth as possible. Her dad had shown some resistance to the idea of her spending the holidays with Jesse's family, but after her last blowout with her stepmom, it was probably a bit of a relief not to have to manage her and the rest of the family members. As for her mom, she had decided to go without Christmas for a year and send the money she would have spent on gifts to a local homeless shelter. It would have been a warm thought if it still accompanied some sort of holiday festivity, but Beca's mom took this as her sole holiday duty and decided to vacation in Florida, thinking that Beca had plans with her father. Beca chooses not to correct her.

"Well, we're happy to have you," Mrs. Swanson says, adding punctuation to the sentence with another plop of casserole.

"Mom, I think you gave her enough," Jesse says.

"Oh goodness, I did give you a lot," Mrs. Swanson says, frowning. "You just eat what you can, dear."

"It's fine," Beca says. "I'm a champion eater."

"Wouldn't know it looking at you," Jesse's Aunt Margie says. Her husband gives her a look, as if to say that weight should not be discussed at the dinner table. Aunt Margie ignores the look all together and says, "Give her another spoonful, Barb."

"Oh well, I guess one more spoonful couldn't hurt."

"Mom, how about we move on to someone else's plate?" Jesse suggests. "Grandpa's plate looks a little bare-boned."

"Yeah, Barb, bring that casserole over here!"

Jesse leans in and whispers, "Did I mention yet that I'm sorry for my family?"

She laughs. "It's fine."

"Seriously, only eat what you can."

"Big appetite remember?" she reminds him.

"We like a girl who can eat," Mr. Swanson booms.

Jesse grins and says, "You know she can put down an entire large pizza by herself?"

"Damn right I can," Beca says with a nod.

"I've also seen her eat two pieces of pie in a row with ice cream on the side," Jesse adds. "And an entire platter of nachos."

"Alright," Beca says loudly, reaching over and patting his arm. "Sort of making me sound like a freak now."

* * *

"You all go in the living room and start setting up," Mrs. Swanson says, standing up and placing her napkin on her chair. "Beca and I will do dishes."

"Set up for what?" Beca asks Jesse, scooting her chair back.

"Our Christmas Musical Revue!" Mr. Swanson says jovially, clapping his hands together.

"It's not a true Swanson Christmas without some carols," Jesse's grandpa says. "Isn't that right, Jesse?"

"Unfortunately yes," Jesse says, smiling at the stricken look on Beca's face. "Why don't you go help my mom?"

"Yeah," Beca stammers. "I'm going to go do that."

Beca picks up a few plates and walks into the kitchen, setting them beside the sink. Mrs. Swanson glances back at her and says, "You bring in the dishes and I'll wash them."

"Got it."

Beca brings in the rest of the dishes, packages up the leftover food, and then is put on dish-drying-duty as Mrs. Swanson continues to wash. As Mrs. Swanson hands the gravy boat over to Beca she says, "We really are happy to have you here, Beca."

"Thanks," Beca says uncomfortably. Her family was never particularly warm, and she finds herself at a loss as to what to feel around all this unusual warmth.

"You really do make Jesse happy."

Beca smiles a bit, nodding her head as she dries the gravy boat. "He's, uh, one of the good ones."

"We were worried about him going off to college, you know," Mrs. Swanson says in a low voice. "Now, don't tell him that I'm telling you this, but he was a very shy boy when he was little. He never liked to be away from home. Never did sleepovers or summer camp. And we tried so hard to get him to go to summer camp! Those are wonderful for developing social skills, you know. But he just wouldn't do it."

Mrs. Swanson pauses as she works at a particularly difficult patch of the pan with a scouring pad. Beca thinks back to the boy she saw singing from the back of the car and can't imagine him ever being shy.

"Anyway, we were worried about him going off on his own," Mrs. Swanson continues. "But then he joined that Treblemakers group and met you. We feel like we don't need to worry about him anymore. We still do, of course. We're still his parents after all, but knowing he has you makes us not worry as much."

Mrs. Swanson hands Beca the pan and she dries it in silence. Had she really been such a help to Jesse? If anyone needed help in their relationship, she would have thought it was her. He had done wonders to bring her out of her shell and open herself up to him.

"You girls almost done in there?" Mr. Swanson calls out, completing the question with a festive strum of his guitar.

"One sec, Gary!" Mrs. Swanson yells back. She glances down at Beca and gives her a little grin when she says, "He's just so excited to play for you. It's his favorite part of the holidays."

"That's great," Beca says with a forced grin.

"You know what, screw it," Mrs. Swanson says, putting down her dish. "We'll finish these later. Let's go have some fun!"

The two girls join the rest of the party in the living room. Mrs. Swanson takes the seat next to her husband and Beca squeezes between Jesse and Aunt Margie on the couch. Jesse puts his hand on Beca's knee and gives it a little squeeze.

"How were dishes? My mom didn't say anything too embarrassing, did she?"

Beca smirks and tells him, "Nah, nothing too scarring."

Mr. Swanson begins strumming on his guitar and Beca picks out the beginning notes of _Jingle Bell Rock_. He gestures toward Jesse with the guitar and Jesse shifts in his seat as he says, "Wow, guess I'm starting it off this year."

"Take the lead, sweetie!" Mrs. Swanson trills.

Jesse begins singing and his family claps along, smiling wide as he hits all the notes. Beca watches on with mild amusement, wondering how she has ended up sitting amongst all these people. Jesse glances at her and the look on her face almost sends him into a nosedive of laughter.

"Beca, join in!" Mr. Swanson calls out, gesturing toward her with the neck of his guitar. Beca shakes her head immediately, saying, "Oh, no. That's, uh, I don't like to perform in public."

"Aren't you in a group like Jesse's?"

"I only sing in public when all the noises come from someone's mouth," Beca says immediately. "Music snob. I'll admit it."

Jesse leans in and says, "You can talk all you want, they're going to make you sing."

She gives him a look and then grudgingly launches into the second verse of _Jingle Bell Rock_. Jesse harmonizes with her and she wants to run as far as she can from this room because they are _harmonizing_ like some scene out of a cheesy musical and she's actually enjoying it. Aunt Margie joins them and before Beca knows it the entire room is singing. It's an energy that she's not accustomed to and when the song ends, she realizes that she's smiling.

Jesses glances over at her and laughs.

"Dare I say you're enjoying yourself?"

"Shut up."

* * *

"Alright, now Beca you go stay with Jesse in his room," Mrs. Swanson says. They had finished the music and opened gifts, followed by a viewing of _Christmas Vacation _– which Beca has to admit is not a half-bad movie. They're all dressed in their new flannel pajamas (Beca included) and are finally heading off to bed.

"Okay," Beca says, pulling on the sleeves of her pajama top. It feels a bit weird for Mrs. Swanson to send her and her son up to his bedroom, and Mrs. Swanson feels the hesitancy and laughs, saying, "Oh dear, I'm not a prude. I know you two do this back at school."

"Wow, and we are going upstairs," Jesse says, grabbing Beca's arm as he makes his way to the stairwell. Beca steps closer to him and says in a low voice, "I'm not touching you in that room. I fee like your mom sees all."

"Damn, there goes my dream of getting some in my childhood bed," Jesse returns. She laughs and hits his arm as they turn into the corridor and make their way to his room. He stops just in front of his door and turns toward her, his body blocking the doorway.

"Alright, I'm going to apologize in advance for anything embarrassing in this room. I was sort of a dorky child."

"Really? I had no idea," she deadpans.

"Just…don't judge too harshly, okay?"

She pushes on his stomach and says, "Come on, let's go in. All this build up – I want to see the main attraction."

He grins a bit before opening the door and letting her in. She doesn't speak for a moment, eyes taking in everything as she looks around the room.

"No way," she breathes out. "You're a Trekkie?"

"I told you I was a dorky child."

She snorts, turning back toward him. "No wonder you and Benji are such good friends."

"Star Trek is quality television," Jesse returns. "And before you ask, no I will not make you watch any episodes."

"Thank God," she says, sitting down on his bed. She lays her hand on the comforter and says, "Please tell me there are Star Trek sheets under here."

He laughs. "No, but I did have some Power Ranger ones growing up."

"You are possibly the most uncool person I have ever met," she teases, standing up. She walks over to him and slides her arms around his waist. "How did you hook me again?"

"My sweet moves on stage, obviously. And I think I remember you saying something about juice boxes and Rocky."

"Oh yes," she says, tilting her head back and coming onto her tippy toes to press her lips against his. "I remember now."

He kisses her softly and she melts against him. His hand comes up to gently cradle her jaw while his other hand massages her waist. This is the other reason he won her over. She had thought performing live was a rush, but then she went out into the audience and kissed him. His lips against hers was an unparalleled rush.

"Slow down, Trekkie," she says, pulling away and resting her forehead against his.

"Too far?" he asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I feel weird with you parents so close. I think we better get to bed."

He kisses her forehead and says, "Alright. Let's go to bed."

They both climb into his small twin bed, her body pressed tightly against him more out of necessity than anything else. If she moves even an inch she would fall out of the bed.

"Tight squeeze," she says.

Jesse scoots closer to the wall and asks, "Better?"

"Yeah," she says, turning on her side away from him. "Yeah, that's better."

He puts his arm around her waist and presses his lips to the curve of her neck. She laughs as his breath tickles the back of her ear and he murmurs, "Sorry, I forgot you were freakishly ticklish."

She lays her arm over his and interlaces their fingers. It's such a girly thing to do, but the feel of his fingers threaded with hers is too good to resist. They lay there in silence for a few moments, listening to the other breathe.

"I'm really glad you were here today," he says behind her, giving her hand a little squeeze.

"Me too. I learned so many important things. You're a Trekkie. Your family is basically the modern day Partridge family."

He laughs and says, "We prefer Von Trapp."

"It really was nice," she admits. "And what your mom told me when we were washing dishes. Man, I've got blackmail for life."

"You're really not going to tell me what she said?"

"Not a word. Your mom made me promise. She told me in _confidence_, Jesse."

He laughs again and says, "Alright, I'll stop trying to pry." He kisses the curve of her neck and murmurs, "Merry Christmas, Beca."

She smiles slightly, burrowing herself even closer to him, and returns, "Merry Christmas."

**A/N: Another fluff ball. I'd love your feedback!**


	8. The Roadtrip: Toy Trains and Shaun T

**A/N: I love the idea of Jesse and Beca on a roadtrip. I realized this would be a monster of a one-shot to post on its own, so this will be broken down into several pieces that will be posted along with other one shots. Hope you enjoy!**

The Roadtrip: Toy Trains and Shaun T

They packed the car with two duffel bags stuffed with clothes and enough snacks to last for at least half of the car ride. It was Jesse's idea to take a road trip. He just finished reading Kerouac's _On The Road_, and was romanticized by the idea of exploring the country. Beca had also read _On The Road _back in high school and thought it was all a load of crap. Who wanted to spend all those hours holed up in a car, anyway? She was all poised to tell him no, but then he started talking about some of his plans and where they could stop off along the way. His excitement was infectious, and when weighing the road trip against a summer spent with her dad and the stepmonster, she couldn't find a good reason not to say yes. So, they made a rough itinerary, gassed up the car and headed out onto the open road.

"This is great. Being on the road. Watching the world pass you by through a partially bug-splattered windshield."

"Are you going to narrate the entire trip?" Beca asks dryly. "Because if you are, we might have a problem."

Jesse grins and returns, "I'm just excited. I mean, this is an experience, Beca – a real life experience. Think of the stories we'll have."

"You're such a nerd," she says, voice affectionate. She long ago stopped trying to pretend that his nerdy excitement for things irritated her. There was something so pure and innocent about his excitement that she couldn't help but find herself fall a little in love with it.

"Are you getting hungry?" he asks.

"Are you?" she asks in disbelief, thinking about the twenty Twizzlers he consumed in the last hour.

"Sort of. Besides, I read about a cool place a few miles down. I think you'll really like it."

Beca shrugs. "Sure, what's this place called?"

"Choo Choo Johnny's," he says. "Apparently they have all these little trains around the place and your food is actually brought by a toy train. Can you believe that? It's bought by a toy train!"

"I'm a little worried this place may reveal things about you that I don't want to know."

He laughs and asks, "Like what?"

"Like you're a toy train enthusiast. You're going to start spouting off things about train mechanisms and…whatever else toy train enthusiasts talk about."

Jesse shakes his head and assures her, "I know nothing about toy trains. But I can't promise that I won't be more than a little excited for my food to come on a toy train. I mean, how can someone _not_ get more than a little excited?"

"Oh my god, stop talking up the place and just take the exit already."

"Man, you are such an agreeable travel partner," he says, turning off onto the exit. "Can you say that one more time and sound just a little more like a grumpy old man?"

"One more word and you're sleeping alone tonight, buddy."

* * *

She can't help but laugh when she watches Jesse's face as the little toy train chugs down the track and stops in front of him with his burger and French fries. He takes his food from the train car and says, "This is the coolest thing ever."

"It's pretty cool," she admits, her own food en route behind his train car. "Hey, mine's coming on a circus train car. There's even toy animals in it!"

He grins at her enthusiasm and says, "Told you that you'd love it."

She picks her food up from the train car and plucks a french fry from the bag and pops it in her mouth. She chews thoutghtfully and says, "You know, I think food tastes better when it's from a train car."

"Oh, totally," Jesse agrees. "It's like coke from a glass bottle. Always tastes better."

"Yes!" Beca says, nodding enthusiastically. "My dad used to always buy glass bottles of coke when I was little. Still don't really know where he managed to find them, but it always tasted better."

"We should see if we find any."

"Find any what?" Beca asks, taking a bite of her burger.

"Coke in glass bottles."

"If we do, we should buy out the entire stock," Beca says. "That way, we will have glass bottles of coke on reserve."

"Of course, for all of our glass-coke-bottle-needs."

The little train chugs past them with food for another table and Jesse grins, shaking his head.

"This place is seriously the coolest."

* * *

They finish up lunch and drive a few hours before pulling off at the nearest exit for a place to stay. Jesse thinks they should look a bit further, but Beca insists they pull over partially due to the fact that she's tired and she's had a full bladder for more than an hour.

"We could have pulled over at that rest stop," he tells her. "The bathroom wouldn't have been primo, but it would've done the job."

"I can't do rest stop bathrooms," Beca says, scrunching her nose. "There are a lot of things I'm willing to slum on, but a clean bathroom is not one of them."

They pull into the parking lot of a Super 8 and Jesse parks the car in the nearest spot. They climb out of the car and Jesse grabs their luggage from the trunk, handing Beca the smaller bag to carry. They walk into the lobby and Jesse takes a look around, lips pressed into a frown.

"This kind of looks like a place where someone would get murdered," Jesse says.

"Aw, don't worry, I'll protect you. Come on partner, let's get ourselves a room."

They walk up to the desk and get a room. The lady behind the desk hands them a key with a large key fob on it and points them toward their left.

"Your room is down there to the left. It's the third door on your right."

"Thank you."

Jesse hikes the bag higher up on his shoulder and they walk down the hallway past an ice machine that looks to be from around circa 1983.

"That's where they'll get the ice to keep our bodies from rotting when they kill us," Jesse says.

"You're really going to ride this serial-killer-joke aren't you?"

"Just saying that we could have driven to the next exit and have found a motel that didn't have a bunch of mysterious stains on the carpets."

"The mysterious stains are just part of its charm," she sing-songs, taking the key from him and opening the door. She steps in and looks around, swallowing hard as she nods. The room smells faintly of feet and stale cigarettes. There's an old television with an antenna on a rickety tv stand in front of a bed that appears to be lopsided.

"Wow," Jesse says, dropping his bag on the floor. "I thought it couldn't get worse, but…it really did."

"Aw, come on, it's not that bad," she says, dropping her own bag on the floor. She walks over to him and drapes her arms around his neck. "That bed over there doesn't look that bad, either."

Jesse smirks. "Is that so?"

"But, you know, there's really only one way to find out."

He kisses her and she steps back, dropping onto the bed when the back of her knees knock against the mattress. She inches back on the bed and he follows her, his hand leaving a hot trail on her waist as his lips find hers again. She shifts underneath him and the bed squeaks loudly. She laughs, forehead pressed against his.

"Let's try that again," Jesse says, dragging his mouth along her neck. She brings her hands up underneath his shirt, feeling the muscles of his back. He brings his mouth back up to her and as he presses his hand into the mattress for leverage it makes another loud squeak and buckles under his weight. He rolls to the side and Beca laughs even harder, pressing herself to his side.

"I think I was wrong about the bed," she says between gasps of laughter.

"Yeah," he says, tickling her side. "I'd say so."

"Guess we'll have to entertain ourselves in another way," she says, reaching over him and grabbing the remote from the nightstand. She flips on the tv and goes through the channels. One quick trip through shows that out of the five channels that don't feature static there is one Evangelical minister and four infomercials.

"Oh, I love watching these," Jesse says, telling her to stop.

"Seriously? You like watching infomercials?"

"Not any infomercials," he returns.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you like watching _workout _infomercials?"

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing."

"Well, from what I'm hearing you like to sit and watch people work out. I'm a little worried about your mental state."

"Watch two minutes of this and tell me it's not fantastic," Jesse says. "I dare you."

She holds his gaze and returns, "Fine. Two minutes and then we're putting on that Evangelical minister."

_Forty Minutes Later_

****"Look at him go," Beca says, head resting on his chest. "How can he do that many pushups? It's not physically possible to do that many pushups."

"I bet you I could."

"You could not," she says, slapping his chest.

"I totally could. I'd just need to, you know, train. And get on a high protein diet."

She snorts. "You're insane. Oh! This is my favorite part!"

Jesse grins, slipping his arm under his head.

"I don't understand why they all smile like that," she says. "Like, there's no way they're having _that _good of a time. If I were them, I would be wanting to die and wanting that Shaun T guy to die, too."

"They're fitness enthusiasts."

"Yeah, that or they're all drinking the koolaid."

"Are you saying that fitness infomercials are a cult?"

"All I'm saying is that no one looks like happy doing squats unless they're on something. And that Shaun T looks a little shady. Never trust a man with biceps that big."

Jesse laughs. "Is that one of your rules to live by?"

"Uh huh, that and no food in bed."

Jesse shakes his head and jokingly murmurs, "So many things I don't know about you."

* * *

Both of them fall asleep to the dulcet tones of Shaun T yelling at one of his workout people to do more squats. When they wake up some B-list celebrity is hawking a hair cream that they promise will make frizz a thing of the past.

"I think I found your Christmas gift," Jesse says, yawning.

"Sure, if you like a knee to your groin."

"You're snarky in the morning," he teases, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She shifts, propping herself up on her shoulder to get a better look at him.

"So, what's on the agenda for today, partner? Is there a place that delivers your food in toy planes?"

"You have no idea how much I wish there was," Jesse says. He reaches forward and gently touches her cheek. "I was thinking we'd laze around here for a bit. Check-out isn't until noon. And then, back on the road."

"Sounds good," she says, turning on her back and rubbing her eyes. She stares up at the ceiling and asks, "Did we seriously watch that infomercial for two hours last night?"

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! Also, I apologize if I butchered what "On The Road" is actually about. Never actually read the book, but from what I know if it I thought it fit. Anyhoo, feedback is love (per usual)!**


	9. That One Time Beca Blackmailed Bumper

**A/N: A few of you requested a piece where Beca either does something nice for Jesse unexpectedly or helps him. I believe this piece sort of melds those two together. Hope you enjoy!**

That One Time Beca Blackmailed Bumper

Beca comes back from the bathroom, one hand clutching her towel as she carries her shower caddy with the other. When she walks into her dorm room Kimmy Jin is at the door, holding Beca's phone as she says in a monotone voice, "Your phone keeps ringing. It's really irritating."

"Did you answer it?" Beca asks, taking the phone from Kimmy Jin.

"No, why would I answer it?"

"I don't know. You could've taken a message or something," Beca says offhandedly, scrolling through her missed calls and seeing that all of them were from Benji. She counts them. Five missed calls.

"What the hell…" Beca murmurs, dialing back Benji's number and sitting on the edge of her bed. Benji picks up on the first ring and says, "Beca, I'm so glad that I got a hold of you."

"What's going on?" she asks. She realizes that she has no clothes on and crosses her legs uncomfortably. For some reason, talking to Benji while only in a towel was mildly disturbing.

"It's Jesse," Benji explains. "He's really sick – like nearing delirium sick – but he refuses to stay in bed. He keeps going on about how he needs to get to class, but he is in no shape to leave this dorm room."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Would you come over here? He'll listen to you. He won't listen to me, but-"

"Benji, come on, if he won't listen to you what makes you think he'll listen to me?"

"He just will," Benji says, voice strained. She hears a loud crash in the background and then Jesse is talking, his voice muffled as he says something that she can't make out. She can hear Benji perfectly though when he says, "Jesse just puked on my collector's edition Death Star that's now only available in Japan and certain retailers in the Philippines. Do you understand what that means, Beca? Do you?!"

"Uh, no Benji, I don't."

"I need your help, Beca. I'm desperate here."

"Alright," she sighs, shifting on the bed. "Just give me ten minutes?"

Benji launches into a chorus of _thank yous_ and it takes her nearly a minute to wean herself off the phone. She changes quickly while Kimmy Jin works on her bonsai plant on her desk. She considers saying bye as she heads out, but decides against it. Closing the door, she heads for Benji and Jesse's dorm room across campus.

* * *

"I am so happy to see you," Benji says the moment he opens the door. Beca peers inside the room and asks, "Where's Jesse?"

"In the bathroom. I believe he's having another sick spell."

"Oh, joy," Beca says, stepping inside. "So, uh, what am I exactly supposed to do?"

"Get him to sit still," Benji says. " He cannot go to class in his shape. Believe me, when you see him-"

"When you see who?" Jesse says from behind them. Beca turns around and recoils as she blurts out, "Holy shit!"

"What?" Jesse asks.

"You look awful," Beca says. As an afterthought she tacks on, "No offense."

"I'm fine."

"Uh, no you're not."

He's really not. His eyes are all red and crusty and his face is the color of milk, except for under his eyes which is a sickly yellow-brown. She can barely tell if he's looking at her because his eyes are so heavily lidded.

"Okay, you are getting in bed now," Beca says.

"I can't. I have class."

"No, I'm pretty sure you have the plague," Beca says, walking forward and taking his arm. "Come on. Bed. You. In it."

"I have an exam," he argues, tugging ineffectually at her grasp. "I-I can't miss it."

"Yes, you can," she assures him. "You will email the professor and tell him that you are deathly ill. As to not infect all the other people in the class with your germs, it's best you stay home."

"That sounds good," Benji pipes in. "You should type exactly that."

"I have Treble practice, too," Jesse says, although he doesn't fight back when Beca pushes him down onto the bed and tugs the covers from under his legs.

"Alright, slide your legs in," she instructs.

"Bumper will kill me if I miss practice," Jesse continues, sliding his legs under the sheets. "I-I can't miss it."

"Okay, look, I'm dealing with some pretty nasty stuff right now," Beca tells him. "Because right now – you are nasty. And I don't deal well with nasty things, but I'm doing it because you're my friend. And because I'm pretty sure Benji will turn homicidal if you puke on another one of his collectibles."

"Not true," Benji interjects.

Beca ignores him and says, "So, how about you just work with me and let me deal with Bumper and your teachers?"

Jesse frowns and says, "I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No, not really. You're like walking death right now, champ. Unless you want to go puke on some co-eds, you better stay where you are."

"Fine," he says.

"Good," Beca says, walking over to his desk and grabbing his computer. "Alright, now let's email those professors of yours."

* * *

Bumper is so obnoxious that Beca nearly hangs up on him. The conversation goes from bad to offensive in an alarmingly short time span.

"You're taking care of Swanson, huh?" Bumper says, insinuation heavily lacing his words. "Gonna give him some good medicine?"

"Okay, first off that's not even a good sexual innuendo," Beca returns. "And second-"

"Tell Swanson he can let you play nurse as long as he wants, but he's expected at practice tonight."

"He's sick, Bumper. Like, about ready to keel over sick. There's not a chance in hell that he'll make it to practice."

"Well, then tell him that we might have to reconsider his dedication to the Treblemakers."

"You can't be serious."

"I think I can."

Beca glances back at Jesse who is fast asleep in his bed. There is absolutely no way that Bumper can kick him out, but it is Bumper they're talking about so there's always a slight chance he'll do something impossible and stupid, and she knows if Jesse gets kicked out he will never forgive her.

"Alright," Beca says, "Here's how this is going to go down. I happen to know of some incriminating photos of you on a certain person's phone. We won't name names, but – actually, we will – they're on Fat Amy's phone and believe me, I saw these pictures, and you do _not_ want your Treble buddies seeing them."

He's silent and she knows she has him. She can just picture him twitching, hating that a Bella is besting him.

"Jesse will not be making it tonight and you will not kick him off the team. In fact, you guys will send him some _get well _texts. And donuts."

She adds the last part more for herself – she's getting hungry – but she thinks she might as well get as much as she can while she has him by the balls.

"Donuts with sprinkles," she clarifies. "And at least one strawberry frosted one."

"You're bluffing," Bumper says.

"You really want to try me?"

There's a long pause and then Bumper grudgingly asks, "Dunkin Donuts or Huck Finn's?"

"Huck Finn's," she says, voice measured. "And I expect them within the hour."

"Fine. You know, you run a pretty good blackmail."

"Damn right I do."

She hangs up and Jesse shifts in his bed, turning toward her. His eyes open slowly and she says, "I just talked to Bumper."

"I'm out of the group aren't I?"

"No, you're still in the group," she tells him with a grin. "And we're getting donuts."

"Huh?"

* * *

After that first day Jesse is on the mend and Benji relieves Beca of her nursemaid duties. Jesse's out of work at the radio station for the rest of the week and she's happy to see that when he comes back on Monday he looks like his old self again.

"Hey," he says, stepping beside her and beginning to sort through the CDs.

"Hey yourself. You're looking a lot better than the last time I saw you."

He chuckles and says, "Yeah. Hey, was I delusional, or did you blackmail Bumper into sending me donuts last week?"

Beca grins, shaking her head. "You were not delusional, my friend."

"Impressive," he says. "I wanted to say thank you, by the way - for everything. It was pretty great of you to help out like that."

"I did it all for Benji's collectibles," she answers.

He laughs and says, "Well, for whatever reason, thank you. I wasn't exactly working with a full deck then and I'm pretty sure it would have been a mess if I left that dorm room."

"Yeah, you were not looking too hot."

He raises his eyebrows and asks, "So, I am now?"

She rolls her eyes and tells him, "It's just a saying, Jesse. As Aubrey would say – calm your pits."

He laughs and says, "Alright, my bad."

She studies the back of one of the albums as a comfortable silence falls between them. After a moment she murmurs, "And you're welcome."

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this!**


	10. The Post-Nationals Shindig

**A/N: One of you asked for a glimpse at what happened after Nationals. Here's my take on that! Hope you enjoy!**

The Post-Nationals Shindig

While Bumper had left the Treblemakers scrambling to find his replacement when he took off for Los Angeles, he did leave them the luxury of the hotel room he paid for in the city in anticipation of another Treblemakers win. The parties after Nationals were legendary, and this year is no different – regardless of the fact that this year it is the Barden Bellas celebrating a win and not the Trebles.

The hotel room is lavish, all mahogany paneling and granite countertops. At the front of the room is a seating area where the teams had pushed back the furniture and formed a dance floor – beats pulsating from the iPod deck resting on one of the end tables. Just behind the make-shift dance floor is the kitchen. One of the Trebles with a fake ID had hit up the local liquor store and outfitted the countertop with every cheap liquor imaginable. They're lined up messily on the countertop along with mixers and the traditional red Solo cups.

"What do you want?" Jesse asks, gesturing at the wide array of college-approved-liquor.

"I don't care. Surprise me," Beca says, turning around so that her back is flush against the counter as she watches the debauchery unfold. Chloe, per usual, is already pressed against a Treble on the dance floor. It didn't take long for the Treble-Bella divide to collapse once Beca and Jesse had their little show in the Lincoln Center audience. Already Beca can point out two potential flings.

"Here you go," Jesse says, handing Beca her cup. She sniffs it and winces at the strong smell of alcohol.

"You know, Jesse, you don't have to get me drunk to cop a feel tonight."

He laughs and asks, "A bit heavy-handed on the alcohol?"

"Just a bit."

"Alright," he says, plucking the cup from her hand. "This'll be mine. I'll make you one that's weaker."

"Yeah, how about one that won't burn a hole in metal?"

"A non-metal-burning drink," Jesse says slowly as he pours whiskey and coke into a cup. "Coming right up."

He turns around when he's finished the drink and hands it to her, watching her take a sip with a face much too attentive for the task at hand. She nods at him appreciatively after the sip.

"Much better. Now stop looking at me like that."

"It was high stakes there, Beca. I can only pawn one drink off on myself, you know."

"High stakes my ass," she teases, hitting his arm lightly. He leans against the counter next to her and they survey the crowd.

"So, this is the infamous post-Nationals party," Jesse says, nodding his head with his lips pursed. "I have to say, I was expecting more."

"Yeah," she agrees. "I mean, there isn't one stripper."

He snorts. "Hey, maybe we can get Benji to do some magic tricks."

"I don't think you need to get Benji to do anything," Beca says, gesturing toward the wayward roommate with her drink. He is over in the corner with one of the Bella's, brandishing a deck of cards in his hand.

"Where did he even find those?" Beca muses.

"He always carries a pack with him," Jesse answers. "You never know when the magic craving will strike."

"Yeah, I guess not."

"So," Jesse says loudly, signaling a change in subject. "You watched it, didn't you?"

"Watched what?"

"_The Breakfast Club_."

"Oh, yeah. I did."

"And it was pretty life changing, right?"

"It was okay," she says with a shrug, taking a sip of her drink. He doesn't say anything and when she looks up at him he is staring down at her with this incredulous look, his mouth hung open so wide that she's pretty sure a fist could fit in there.

"Okay?" he says. "It was _just_ okay?"

"Fine, it was better than okay," she relents. Sniffing slightly she adds, "I might have cried."

"You cried?"

"Yeah."

"_You _cried?"

"Yeah," she says loudly. "I'm not made of stone, you know. It was a pretty moving movie. Made me think. Obviously."

Jesse's face softens and he reaches down for her hands, intertwining their fingers. They stay that way for a while, watching the party with their hands clasped between them. Neither notices Aubrey approach, but then she is in front of them and loudly clears her throat which both agree is largely unnecessary as she is literally right in front of them. Aubrey always did like to announce her arrival, though. Both Jesse and Beca exchange a look before Beca says, "Aubrey, hey."

"Hello," Aubrey says primly, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I just wanted to come over here and say that I do not have any problem with you two dating. So, you can go on without any worry about my interfering."

"Uh, thanks?" Beca says uncertainly.

Jesse nods along and sarcastically adds, "Yeah, thanks, we were really worried about your interfering."

Aubrey doesn't catch the sarcasm and nods, her mouth pulling into a grin.

"Good, because I don't want things to be awkward between any of us. I think the Bellas and Treblemakers could actually really get along now that that asshat Bumper isn't here anymore. And I'd really like for us all to get along."

"Well, we certainly are," Beca says, gesturing between her and Jesse. "So, I guess you could say we're paving the way for the rest of us."

Aubrey presses her lips into a closed mouth grin and nods. "Yes. I think that is it exactly, Beca. Alright, well you two enjoy the rest of the party."

"You too, Aubrey."

As Aubrey walks away Jesse says, "Is it just me, or did Aubrey just give us her _permission_ to date?"

Beca considers it for a moment. "Yep. Sounds about right."

* * *

"Tell me about your roommate," Fat Amy says, leaning in conspiringly as she stares at Benji from across the room. He is currently over at the side of the room, sniffing a piece of cheese before popping it in his mouth.

"Well," Jesse begins. "He's really into close-up magic. And Star Wars. And he hums in his sleep."

"He hums in his sleep?" Beca asks. "I didn't think that was a thing."

"It definitely is" Jesse says. "Believe me."

"Bet he could make me hum," Fat Amy says dreamily. "Is he single? Actually, that doesn't matter. Pretty sure I could rope him in either way."

"He's single," Jesse tells her.

"Mmm," Fat Amy says, nodding appreciatively. "Single and about to mingle. Alright guys, I'm going in!"

"Good luck," Beca calls out weakly. She glances up at Jesse and says, "I have a feeling this can only end in disaster."

"That's for them to worry about," he says. "Come on, let's dance."

"Oh no," she says, shaking her head. "I don't dance."

"You don't dance? What, are you from the town in Footloose?"

"Ha ha," she says dryly. "It's just not my thing. Trust me, you don't want to see me dance."

He laughs and retorts, "Now I really do. Come on, I promise not to make fun of your dancing. You can't be that bad. You danced on stage tonight."

"Yes, but that's different. It's group dancing. And all we really do is thrust our chests out a bunch of times."

"I would not be against you just doing that," Jesse says with a slight grin. "I mean, stick with what you know."

She gives him a look and says, "Perv."

"Come on, I want to dance with my girlfriend."

The smile on her face dims and she repeats, "Girlfriend?"

He goes from cocky to flustered in about three seconds and sputters, "Well…I mean…I thought when you kissed me…but…"

"No, I know," she interrupts. She crosses her arms over her chest. "I mean, I don't know. I've never done this before. I'm not really good at this stuff."

"Me neither," he admits.

"So, girlfriend," she says slowly, drawing out the words. "Girlfriend. Girl. Friend."

"I don't really know what's happening here," Jesse says blankly.

"Girlfriend," she repeats, taking a deep breath. "Alright. I'll do it."

"You'll do what?" he asks carefully.

"I'll be your girlfriend," she says. His face lights up and he goes to say something when she holds up her hand and says, "But we're not going to be all gross and mushy. And if we ever start wearing matching outfits we need to break up immediately."

He laughs. "That sounds fair."

"Alright, so…girlfriend. That's me. Weird."

"I guess that makes me your boyfriend."

She scrunches her nose and says, "That sounds even weirder."

"You really don't like labels, do you?"

She shakes her head with a slight smile and says, "No, not really. But I think I can get used to this one."

He turns toward her and slips his arms around her waist. "You think so?"

She presses herself closer and angles her face up toward his. "Yeah. I don't think it'll be too difficult."

* * *

The night comes to a close as the various team members pass out on the floor or couches. Beca and Jesse go to see if the bed is still open and both back out of the room quickly when they see Fat Amy and Benji in a compromising position.

"Ahh," Beca says, eyes squeezed shut. "That is something I cannot unsee."

"I second that," Jesse says, shuddering. "Alright, guess we're roughing it on the floor?"

"People should have brought sleeping bags or something," Beca says as they search for some open space. "My back's gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning."

"Alright Granny," Jesse teases.

"Shut it."

"I have an idea," Jesse says after a moment, quietly approaching the couch. He carefully grabbed a few pillows and then moves back toward the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Beca hisses.

"Just stay here. I'm going in."

He rushes into the room with a hand covering his eyes and then emerges a few seconds later with the comforter from the bed.

"I am not touching that," Beca says immediately, shaking her head. "Not a chance in hell."

"Relax, Beca, it was on the floor."

"Are you sure?"

"I picked it up from there."

"Okay," she relents. "Let's just pretend that no extraneous bodily fluids made its way onto it."

"We don't need to pretend. It's clean."

They find a small bit of space in the kitchen and Jesse spreads out the comforter. He puts the two pillows at the top of the comforter and then sits down. She settles next to him and they stretch out on the comforter, his arms finding their way around her waist and her head resting on his chest. They are cuddling, and it seems like such a silly thing to do for Beca. She never saw herself as the cuddling type, and yet here they are with her head tucked under her chin and his fingers pressing some beat into her side. After a moment she asks, "Are you playing piano on my waist?"

"Technically only the left hand."

She laughs. "What song are you playing?"

"Something I came up with myself a few weeks ago," he says casually.

"You play piano?"

"Sort of necessary to compose music."

"Huh," she says, thinking that she's constantly learning something new about him. She has a feeling that won't stop. "Well, I think you should name this song Beca's Waist."

He laughs and his chest rumbles beneath her cheek. "Beca's Waist? Don't you think that's a bit of a weird title?"

"No, it's original. Unique. It'll really catch someone's attention."

"Alright," he says, voice indulgent. "I'll make that it's working title."

"Working title my ass," she retorts. "I know that means you'll just change it."

Jesse goes to say something back when one of the Treblemakers rises up on his forearm and hisses, "Would you two shut the hell up?"

Beca suppresses laughter against Jesse's chest and he lets out a long exhale before saying, "I think that's our cue to go to bed."

"Uh huh. Night Jesse."

He pauses for a moment before brushing his lips against the top of her head and saying goodnight. The small gesture makes her so ridiculously giddy that she wants to slap herself. She snuggles closer to him and closes her eyes, taking the moment of quiet to reflect on the day. That morning she hadn't known if Jesse would understand her grand gesture. Past that, she didn't know if he would accept it or her. Now they're lying together on a potentially compromised comforter with the rest of the Barden Bellas and Treblemakers around them. Shifting slightly against him, Beca thinks to herself, _Today definitely didn't suck_.

**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Hope you liked it!**


	11. Beca and Jesse Go Iceskating

**A/N: There was a prompt involving one of them in the hospital. I admit I took some major poetic liberties here from the original prompt, but I think you all will like it!**

The Reason Beca Will Never Go Iceskating Again

It's his idea to go ice skating. She tries to tell him that despite her dancing on-stage, she lacks anything relating to balance or grace, but he won't hear any of it. He tells her that she will be just fine and that he used to go ice skating all the time as a kid, and if she just gave it a chance she'd have a really great time. She agrees against her better judgment and ends up in the hospital bed with a concussion.

When she wakes up the first thing she says is, "I hate you."

"Beca," Jesse says earnestly, squeezing her hand. She doesn't know how long he's been sitting there waiting for her to wake up. She hopes it's a long time, because that's what he deserves for making her go ice skating.

"I hate you," she repeats. "And if you ever make me go ice skating again I will destroy all that you hold dear."

He smirks and says, "Well, I guess I don't have to ask if you're feeling better. I have to say, your fall was really impressive."

"You suck," she says tonelessly.

"No really, if it were on tape it would without a question win _America's Funniest Home Videos_. I've never seen a better fall. Honestly."

"I'm disturbed that you watch that show."

"People hurting themselves on film is funny," he says innocently. "Everyone knows that."

"You have a twisted sense of humor." She goes to sit up and winces when a searing pain shoots through her head. "Ow…ow…ow."

"Don't move around too much," he advises softly, helping her ease back onto the pillow. "You smacked your head pretty good."

"Yeah, you think?"

"No, I know," Jesse returns. "I was there. Saw the whole thing with a front row view."

She stares at him and murmurs, "I am envisioning about eight different ways I could kill you right now."

He smirks and asks, "Any good ones?"

"There's only involving an ice pick. Think they'd like that on _America's Funniest Home Videos_?"

"I'm sensing that you're angry with me," he says with a slight grin.

The nurse walks in, Beca's chart in hand, and says, "Ah, I see that you're up! It's nice to see those eyes open. How's your head feeling?"

"Like I smacked it on some ice," Beca returns.

"Yeah, that's to be expected," the nurse says. "You hit it pretty hard. We can up your meds a bit if you'd like."

"That would be great, thanks."

"No problem," the nurse says. She glances at Jesse and asks, "Is this your boyfriend?"

Beca says, "That's currently being debated. He's the genius who decided we should go ice skating."

The nurse smiles softly and says, "You be nice to him, now. You know, he hasn't left your side for hours."

Jesse grinned down at Beca and says, "Well, I figured the first thing you'd want to do when you woke up was yell at me."

"You figured right," Beca says, but her voice had softened.

"Alright, I'll go put in order for your meds," the nurse says. "Just press that buzzer over there if you need me."

"I will, thanks."

"I _am _sorry, for the record," Jesse says, reaching forward and gently brushing his fingertips against her cheek. "I didn't know your balance was that bad."

"I warned you."

"Yeah, but no warning could have prepared me for how bad you actually were. My four year old cousin has better balance than you."

"Thanks," she says flatly.

"You know how when people who almost died talk about their experience they go on about seeing their life flash before their eyes? That totally happened to me when I saw you fall."

Beca gapes at him and says, "Are you seriously making this about you? I'm the one with a concussion and you saw _your _life flash before your eyes?"

"No. I saw our life flash before my eyes. Well, it was more like our potential life, really. All the dates we'd never have and movies I wouldn't force you to watch."

She smirks and says, "Hey, that last part doesn't sound half bad."

He laughs and then adds, "I was legitimately worried about you. Also, the sound of someone's head hitting solid ice? Not something I care to relive for a very long time."

"Yeah, the actual experience of hitting one's head on solid ice? Not too keen to have a second go at it, either." She reaches forward and covers his hand with hers. "And I'm glad to hear you were worried. Let this be a lesson that we should never _ever _go ice skating again. I mean it. Never. Ever. Never ever again."

He grins, nodding. "Yeah, alright. No more ice skating."

**A/N: Feedback is love :D**


	12. The Wedding

**A/N: This one's a bit different from the others. It is set 2-3 years after Beca and Jesse graduate from Auburn. Hope you enjoy!**

The Wedding

She'll never forget the first time she saw his name in the credits of a movie. It was some romantic comedy that she'd already forgotten the name of, but she could couldn't shake the indescribable feeling she had when she saw his name flash on the screen.

_Score Composed By:_

_Jesse Swanson_

She hadn't known it was him when the movie started and she found herself wanting to watch the whole thing over again just to listen to that tinkering behind the action. Her boyfriend at the time stood up and looked down at her in confusion because she wasn't moving. She was stock still in her seat, eyes staring at the space on the screen where his name had appeared. She came out of it relatively quickly and stood up with a jolt, going on about how she must have spaced out for a moment or something like that. Her boyfriend didn't ask further – probably indicative of one of the reasons they break up three months later – and they leave, Beca wondering how many other movies there were out there with Jesse's name in the credits.

That night she sat in bed with her laptop propped on her lap as she went through Jesse's Wikipedia page. First off, it was damn impressive that he had a Wiki page, and the resume that followed did not disappoint. It seemed there was a whole body of work that she had missed. Adding the Wiki page to her bookmarks, she thought to herself that she had some catching up to do.

She ended up Netflixing most of the movies and began to be swept up more by the swelling music accompanying the action than any storyline that followed. She didn't know if it was her reading too much into the scores – but she swore she could see Jesse in them. Bits and pieces were so familiar that she found herself smiling for no real reason other than that they reminded her of him.

She thought of calling him up several times as she made her way through his film work, but she chickened out every time. Her and Jesse had history, and she didn't want to give him the wrong idea. Besides, was it really necessary that he know that she had watched his films? It had been years since they dated. He probably wouldn't even care. The idea crossed her mind a few more times, but then she finished the list and life predictably got in the way. She got a promotion at work. Her and the boyfriend went through a rough patch before finally ending a relationship that probably should have ended much sooner than it had. She forgot all about Jesse Swanson until she found a wedding invitation in the mail.

_You are cordially invited to the wedding of:_

_Brad Weston_

_and_

_Patricia Brightman_

It seemed Fat Amy was getting married, and she thought enough of Beca still to invite her. Beca was surprised mainly for the reason that her and Amy hadn't talked for at least two years. If anyone were to unexpectedly send a save-the-date her way, though, it would be Fat Amy, and Beca sent back a response saying she would attend without hesitation. It would be nice to see Fat Amy. Who knew, maybe more Barden Bellas would be there, too.

It is at her table at Fat Amy's wedding reception that Beca recalls that night at the movie theaters where she had been rendered immobile by the mere presence of his name on the screen. She wraps her hand around her whisky and coke and gives it a stir with a flick of her wrist, the ice clinking festively against the glass.

"Beca?"

She glances over to her side and grins when she sees Chloe with a tall red-head man beside her.

"Oh my God, it is you!" Chloe says loudly, looking up at the man. "I _told _you it was her!"

Beca laughs, standing up and stepping into Chloe's waiting hug.

"It's great to see you, Chloe. How are you?"

"Beyond upset that Fat Amy made it to the altar before me," Chloe says, flashing her left hand that prominently featured a detailed engagement brand. "She's totally taken half my ideas. That's what I get for talking about my wedding plans with her!"

"You and Fat Amy are still close, then?" Beca asks, feeling a sudden wash of guilt at becoming so disconnected while Chloe nods.

"Yeah, we all are for the most part," Chloe says. She senses Beca's discomfort and adds, "But, you know, it was easy since we're still all in New York. I'm sure if we were in L.A. like you…"

"I'm not the best with keeping in touch," Beca says. "Never one of my strong suits."

"Well, even more reason for us to catch up!" Chloe gushes, reaching forward and gently touching her arm. "I bet you're wondering who this tall hunk of ginger next to me is."

Beca grins and glances at the guy. "Let me guess, you're the fiancée?"

"You don't miss a beat," he returns. "I'm Roger."

"Really nice to meet you," Beca says. "I'm glad that Chloe was able to find another of her kind."

"So, are you here with anyone?" Chloe asks.

"Nope, it's just me," Beca says.

"Is there anyone at home?" Chloe asks leadingly.

"My boyfriend and I broke up last month," Beca answers. "Haven't really been on the dating scene much after that."

"That's a shame. Have you been out much? Because I know after a breakup it's difficult to really put yourself out there but…"

It may have been years since Beca had last seen Chloe but she has no problem remembering her dogged inquisitions when it comes to relationships. Knowing that this will be a long and painful conversation if she does not extricate herself soon, she clears her throat and interrupts with, "You know, I see someone that I should really say hi to. So…"

"Oh, you should totally go," Chloe says. "We didn't mean to monopolize you over here. Go mingle!"

Beca nods with a tight smile, "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you guys later. Roger, it was really nice meeting you."

"You too, Beca."

She excuses herself from the two of them and heads straight to the bar at the side of the dance floor. She had nearly drained her previous drink and she couldn't think of any reason not to have a second. As she waits in the small line someone steps behind her and her shoulders tense when something alarmingly akin to a bird noise rings out behind her.

"No way," she murmurs softly.

"_Becaaww_."

She turns around and meets the amused face of none other than Jesse Swanson. His eyes are bright and he says, "Fat Amy said you'd be here."

"Seriously?" Beca says. "Am I the only one who didn't keep in touch?"

"I'd assume you kept in touch enough if you're here," Jesse says.

She chooses not to correct him.

"You look nice," he says. "Are you here with anyone?"

She gives him a look and says, "No."

"Good, then I won't have to ask for someone's permission to take all of your slow dances."

She smiles slightly and says, "I see you haven't changed."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," he returns. They're silent for a moment as the line moves forward and he casually says, "So, I've followed your music."

She glances over at him in surprise. "You have?"

He nods. "Yeah, your sound has really grown up. It's great."

"Thanks," she says uncomfortably. She considers telling him that she's kept herself similarly abreast of his career, but instead asks, "So, how's composing? Win an Oscar yet?"

He laughs. "No, not yet. Haven't ruled it out entirely, though."

"So, you're working?" she asks cautiously, not wanting to betray the fact that she knows exactly how much he's been working. For some reason she'd rather him think that she has no clue – no interest in his life since they left Barden and each other.

"Pretty steady for about two years now," Jesse says. "It took a while to take off, but I have no complaints. I love what I do. Every time that I get to score a new morning it's…" he trails off, a brilliant smile on his face, "…it's like Christmas morning."

She's staring at him and doesn't notice that the line has moved until he points behind her and says, "The bar's open."

She moves forward, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. The room suddenly feels cold and goosebumps rise on her arms. But then he steps next to her, the sleeve of his jacket brushing against her arm, and she feels heat rise in her chest.

"I'll have a scotch neat," Jesse says. He glances down at Beca and asks, "What are you going to have?"

"Whiskey and coke."

Jesse smirks. "Why am I not surprised?" He glances back at the bartender and says, "A whiskey and coke, too."

The bartender makes the drinks and Jesse hands him over the money. Beca tries to pay him back for her part but he brushes it off with a sweep of his hand.

"Think of it as my apology for the Treblemakers winning Nationals our senior year," Jeses says with a grin. She laughs, taking the drink from him and says, "That's going to require a lot more than a drink, buddy."

"Still bitter?"

"We were robbed," she says. "Our set list was way better than yours and you know it."

He grins. "Yeah, I do. Just didn't want to admit it then."

She rolls her eyes and says, "Typical."

"Anyway, enough about the past. What do you think about L.A.?"

"It's nice," she says with a shrug. "The people aren't half bad and there are some pretty good sushi restaurants."

"Have you tried Nokamura?" he asks immediately. "It's on 5th and Grove. Best sushi I've ever had."

She stares at him and asks, "You live in L.A.?"  
"Well, yeah. Where else do you score movies?"

"Good point," she says blankly, still reeling a bit from the news. Even as she made her way through his entire career of films, it had never occurred to her that he lived in the same city as her.

"You know, I saw you down there once," he says.

"You did?"

Jesse nods. "It was at Whole Foods. You were picking out apples – with your usual diligence, might I add. You rejected a good seven or eight apples."

"I hate ones with soft spots," she says automatically.

"Yeah, I remember," he says with a slight grin. She remembers then that when they dated back at Barden they used to go grocery shopping together. He would make fun of her mercilessly as she threw out apple after apple.

"Anyway," she says. "Why didn't you say hi?"

For the first time that night Jesse looks uncomfortable and he says, "You, uh, had someone with you."

"I…" she trails off when she realizes who he's talking about.

"He seemed nice. Had good hair. Impressive biceps, too."

"You sound smitten," she returns sarcastically. "You know, we're broken up now. I could give you his number."

Jesse laughs. "No, I think I'm good."

She takes a large gulp of her drink, wincing slightly as the alcohol burns her throat. Jesse notices the expression and says, "Hurts so good, right?"

"You got it," she says, raising her drink in a mini salute.

Someone begins to hit their spoon against their champagne flute and a clinking sound fills the room.

"I think it's time for the speeches," Jesse says. "Can I get you for a dance afterwards?"

Beca nods. "Yeah, sure."

They walk over to their respective tables and Beca settles in her seat for the toasts.

* * *

Not two seconds after the toasts end Jesse is in front of her with his hand extended.

"I'm here to collect on that dance."

"You got here fast. Worried I'd run away?"

"More worried that someone else would edge in first."

"Alright," she says, rising from her chair. "But if you step on me I'm going right back to this chair."

"I promise you, I will be on my best dancing behavior."

They walk out to the dance floor and he slips his arm around her waist. Her arms go naturally around his neck and as they sway to the beat she feels as if no time has passed between now and when they had been in college – both hopelessly in love but one too stubborn to admit it. She wonders then how things might have been different if she had been more open. That's the real reason they didn't work in the end. He gave her everything and she came to a point where she couldn't give him any more. She had reached her limit and even he couldn't pull her past it. She thinks of the last man that had shared her bed, and wonders if anything was different now. She liked to think she had grown over the years, but had she really? She thinks of her isolated life in L.A. and wonders if she'd reverted. Was she back to the girl who chose the solitary life over one with people simply because it was easier?

She suddenly feels like her dress is too tight. There's a weight on her chest and she can't take in a full breath. Being back with all these Auburn people was messing with her head – turning everything the wrong way. She was happy back in L.A. She had a life and the career she always wanted, and yet she came here and found herself questioning everything.

"I…I need some air," she says, pulling away from him suddenly. She doesn't look back to see if he's following as she pushes her way out to the back exit of the venue, but she isn't surprised to see him come out the door after her.

"Beca, what's going on?"

"I…I think I'm having a panic attack," she says, leaning forward and bracing her hands on her thighs as she struggles to get a full breath in.

"Um, okay," Jesse says worriedly. "Do you need water? You should probably sit. Come on, let's go inside-"

"No, I don't want to go inside," she says immediately, shaking her head. "I can't. I…"

"Alright, that's fine," he says placatingly. "We'll just sit out here. How does that sound?"

Beca nods. "That's fine."

"Alright."

Jesse helps her onto the ground and then sits next to her. She shivers in the cold and he takes off his suit jacket and drapes it around her shoulders. She doesn't speak for a good two or three minutes, staring at a trash can across the street.

"Beca-"

"Do you think I'm different?" she asks abruptly.

"Are you different?"

She nods. "Yeah, from college. Have I changed?"

"Based off just tonight?"

She thinks about it for a minute and lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, I guess that's a stupid question for you. Not really something you can tell from a few hours with someone."

"What's going on?" he asks.

"I just think about the Bellas," she begins slowly. "I think about how close I got with all of them. And then I think about you. I think about how we were happy, but then that wasn't enough. Makes me wonder if anything will ever be enough for me."

"We were young, Beca," Jesse says after a moment. "Both of us made mistakes."

She shakes her head. "But things haven't changed. I haven't, at least. I still close myself off. Push people away."

"Beca-"

"Earlier this evening when I asked you if you were working – I knew the answer," Beca says, turning to look at him. "I've seen every movie. I've practically memorized your Wikipedia page. But I didn't want to tell you because for some reason I didn't want you to know. I didn't want to admit that I cared. How stupid is that?"

"Pretty stupid," Jesse admitted. "But, look, even if you still are pushing people away, the fact that you recognize that and want to change is important." The look on her face clearly says that she doesn't believe him and he presses, "The first step is admitting you have a problem, right?"

"You sound like a bad infomercial."

"No one's perfect, Beca. We all need a little work."

"How about you? What do you need work on?"

Jesse pauses for a moment and then answers, "I probably could floss more."

She laughs slightly and he says, "There it is. I knew I could make you smile."

Beca takes a deep breath before standing up and extending her hand down toward him. He looks up at her and asks, "Are you better now?"

She nods. "Yeah, my moment of introspection has passed."

He takes her hand and she pulls him up off the ground. When he's upright he wipes off the seat of his pants and says, "We probably should head back inside."

Beca nods. "Yeah."

When they walk back inside Fat Amy is upon them almost immediately, her eyes scrutinizing their appearance.

"Dammit, no mussed clothes or hair," Fat Amy says. "I lost the bet, didn't I?"

"What are you talking about?" Beca asks in confusion.

"Did you guys make out?"

"No," Jesse says while Beca loudly goes, "Dude, no!"

"Yeah," Fat Amy says, frowning. "That's what I thought." She glances back at Chloe who is watching them closely and yells, "There is no touch down! No touch down!"

Jesse glances at Beca and asks, "Want to get a drink?"

"Much more than a few seconds ago."

"Yes, go get liquored up," Fat Amy says, ushering them toward the bar. "Let loose a bit. Get a little funny in the head."

As they make their way to the bar Beca notes, "Man, she really wants to win that bet."

* * *

The reception progresses in the usual manner. Fat Amy gets drunk on champagne and can barely make her way to the limousine to take her and her new husband to the hotel for the start of their honeymoon. The party breaks up around one in the morning, and Beca finds that most of them are staying in the same hotel. A bunch of them share a cab back to the hotel, Jesse squeezing in against Chloe's matching ginger. It's a loud cab ride and she can see the driver is more than happy to drop them off in front of their hotel. Jesse pays for the entire ride and when she tries to slip him a ten he shakes his head. Chloe goes on about how they should all meet in her room and continue the night, but Roger shakes his head and she figures he wants his fiancée to himself.

So, Beca goes up to her room and sits on her bed for a while before opening up the minibar and pulling out a bottle of wine from the back. She slips her shoes off and walks out of her room, locking the door behind her. While she stood behind Jesse in line in the lobby she had heard his room number, and moves quietly through the hall to his room. She hesitates before she knocks, wondering if he's asleep. She figures it hasn't been too long since they all separated, though, and if he doesn't answer after a few knocks then she'll have her answer and she'll drink in her room alone. He answers after the second knock, already changed into boxers and a band t-shirt. She feels silly then for still being in her dress.

He glances at the bottle of wine and says, "Is that for both of us or just you?"

"If you're going to bed…"

"I'm not," he says, stepping aside. "Come in."

She walks in, glancing around at the room. It's identical to hers save for the framed painting above the bed. He holds out his hand for the bottle and she hands it over, watching him search for cups. He grabs two of the ones meant for coffee and then unscrews the wine, pouring them each a cup. She takes it from him and sips gingerly, wincing at the acidic bite at her tongue.

"God this is awful," she says, coughing. "This better not have cost me too much."

"It's minibar wine," Jesse says. "It's supposed to be awful and overpriced."

She smiles slightly. "I guess."

"So, you really watched all my movies?"

She takes another sip before nodding. "Yeah. I mean, I didn't memorize them or anything."

"Admit it, you caught yourself humming one of the themes."

She grins, shaking her head. "No. I won't admit that. I don't think your ego needs any more stroking."

He laughs. "Fine, but I'm going to take that as a yes."

They spend the rest of the night talking about nothing in particular. It's just voices and words, but both find it comforting. There had always been a certain sense of calm between them, and they settle into it again as the hours pass. She doesn't know when they fall asleep, but she wakes up against him, their bodies stretched out on the bed. His arm is wrapped loosely around her, his face turned toward her. She glances up at his face and studies the familiar features. They are different now – more defined and angled. He was a dorky cute back at Auburn, but the years had worked to make him handsome.

"Stop staring at me," he murmurs, eyes drifting open.

"I'm-I'm not."

"Yeah, you were."

She sits up, tugging at the hem of her dress which had ridden up while they slept. The wine they had hours earlier throbbed in her head and she closes her eyes for a moment before standing up.

"You could stay here," Jesse offers, sitting up.

"I think I'm just going to go back to my room," she says, looking for her shoes. She checks the side of the bed twice before she remembers she didn't come with them.

"When's your plane ride back?" he asks.

"Eleven."

He nods. "Mine's at eight."

"Eight," she says, glancing at her watchless wrist. "Well, then you better be getting to bed."

He smiles slightly. "That was the idea before you showed up with a bottle of wine."

She hides her smile with a turn of her head and then says, "I'll see you later, Jesse."

She turns to leave and he asks, "Your phone number still the same?"

She nods, still facing the door. "Yeah."

"Alright then."

She glances back and murmurs, "Alright."

**A/N: How'd you like this? I'm considering doing another piece about their time in L.A. Let me know what you think! Up next - the roadtrip continued!**


	13. The Road Trip: Antique Shopping

**A/N: Okay, the response for that last installment was INSANE. Thank you all so much! That story arc WILL be continued, probably in one or two chapters from now. Hope you enjoy this next installment of the roadtrip!**

The Roadtrip: Antique Shopping

They find this old antique store off the highway and it smells like oak and mothballs with the faintest hint of patchouli.

Beca wrinkles her nose and says, "Smells like my grandma."

"Well, then your grandma must smell _delightful_," Jesse says. He glances around the tall displays filled with discarded treasures and grins. "This place is amazing."

"You're an antiquer, too?" Beca says in disbelief. "Dude, this trip is becoming way too revealing."

"Come on, it's pretty great," Jesse says, gesturing widely at the cavernous room. It seems endlessly filled with displays stacked with countless odds and ends. There is a section for books that stretches nearly to the back of the store. Beca can see a kitchen section and behind it a clothing section with dummies outfitted like Mad Men characters. To the right of that is a small square of toys. She already spies dolls that she will be steering clear of – memories of her and Jesse's viewing of Chuckie the night before fresh in her mind.

"I mean, think of all the things in here," Jesse says, eyes wide. He clearly is not experiencing any of her antique-aversion. "Each piece has a history – a story."

"Also probably a whole lot of germs," Beca says, wrinkling her nose at a coatrack filled with ratty looking furs. "And lice."

"I'm taking it you don't like antiques," Jesse says with a smirk.

Beca shrugs. "Why buy something used when you can get it new?"

"But this stuff is so much richer," Jesse says. He grabs a tea kettle and holds it up in front of her. "Think of this tea kettle. Think of all the people who used it. All the lives lived around it – served by it."

"Yeah," Beca says, glancing at the bottom. "It's burned through."

Jesse looks at the bottom and frowns. "Okay, so this isn't the best example. Still, you can't deny the cool factor of antiques."

"Yeah, I think I can. Doing it right now, actually."

Jesse grins slightly, his eyes dancing. She sees where he's going and immediately tries to talk as she goes, "Jesse, no-"

"I'm going to find you something. The perfect Beca Mitchell antique."

"Yeah," she says flatly. "That's what I didn't want you to say."

"Come on," he says, taking a hold of her arm. "We have our work cut out for us!"

* * *

"How about this?" Jesse asks, holding up a Simon & Garfunkel record.

"I think you're forgetting that you're the one obsessed with _Sound of Silence_," Beca says. "And their records are overpriced here anyway."

"Doesn't matter. I'm paying."

"It does matter," Beca presses. "I'm not going to make you buy me overpriced records."

"I don't mind."

Beca flips through a few of the records, seeing what the selection is like. As she passes a Wings album she says, "But you should look for some Paul McCartney ones for your mom. Didn't you say you wanted to bring her back something?"

"Hold on, so you won't let me buy you overpriced records but it's perfectly find to buy them for my mom?"

Beca gives him a look. "Well, yeah. She birthed you and all that shit."

* * *

"Now come on, you can't turn this down," Jesse says. "I mean, Beca, it's practically calling your name."

Beca stares at him, wondering if all those movies had finally gone to his brain and turned it into mush. He's holding a ratty stuffed rabbit missing one eye. When she shakes her head he comes toward her with the rabbit.

"Dude no, get that thing away from me!" she says loudly, jumping away. He laughs, making hopping motions with the rabbit toward her.

"Are you afraid of a little rabbit, Becs?"

"No, I'm afraid of whatever diseases are attached to it," Beca says, yelping when it nearly touches her. "Seriously, why would someone donate something as gross looking as that?"

"It's not gross," he says, turning the rabbit around so that he looks at its eyes. "Don't listen to her, buddy. You just have character."

"And probably about eight communicable diseases," Beca adds.

"I bet this rabbit made someone very happy," Jesse says.

"Yeah, back before WWI."

"Even so, does that make it any less cuddly?"

She gives him a look, but a grin tugs at her mouth. He just looks so ridiculous standing there clutching a ragged stuffed rabbit.

"Jesse," she says slowly. "The stuffed rabbit is not going to happen. Put it down."

"Fine," he sighs. He puts it back on the rack and then picks up a teddy bear wearing a vest. He turns its face toward Beca and tilts his head to the side as he asks, "How can you deny a teddy bear in a vest?"

Beca shakes her head. "We need to get you out of here."

* * *

Beca thinks it can't get worse until Jesse finds the hats. There are dozens of them, all strewn around the clothing section of the antique store. She tries to stop him from trying them on – she really does – but he doesn't listen. He has a grand ol' time trying them on and then he tries to put a bonnet on her.

"Stop fighting the inevitable," Jesse says, managing to get the bonnet on her. "Oh boy, it's even better than I thought it would be."

"I am so close to kneeing you in the balls."

Jesse's eyes flit from her face to the bonnet and then back. "You know, it would kind of be worth it."

There's a mirror nearby and Jesse pulls her to it, pointing animatedly towards their images.

"How can you not love this? I think you should by it."

"A bonnet?" she asks, laughing as she looks up at him. "You know, it's official now. You're insane."

"Says the person wearing a bonnet."

"Only because you put it on me!" she retorts. She decides right there that she can't be the only person wearing a stupid hat. She looks around and finds one of those big furry hats meant for Russian winters. She plucks it off the model head and plops it on Jesse's head. He laughs, reaching up to readjust the hat. Together they look in the mirror, laughing at the ridiculous image reflected.

"Okay, I think we might both be insane," Beca says. She reaches in her pocket and pulls out her phone, snapping a picture. She glances up at Jesse and shows him the picture. "Can this count as my antique store purchase?"

Jesse puts his arm around her shoulders and gives her a quick squeeze. "Yeah, I think it'll work."

He turns toward her and slips his other arm around her waist. She looks up at him with the little smirk that he loved so much playing on her lips.

"You know, you look pretty sexy in that bonnet."

She laughs. "Oh, really?"

"Definitely. It's a good look on you."

He drops his mouth to hers and kisses her softly. She winds her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepens. They pull apart when an older woman wanders into the clothing section and says, "My goodness, behave you two!"

Beca laughs into her hand, nodding as she backs away from Jesse who immediately launches into a string of apologies. The old lady gives them one more withering look before moving on to the kitchen section.

"I think that's our cue to leave," Jesse says, taking off his hat. "Better go before we get kicked out."

"I second that."

Beca takes off her bonnet and Jesse holds out his hand. She takes it and they leave the antique shop, both of them suppressing laughter as they pass the elderly woman. They climb back into Jesse's car and make their way back onto the freeway.

**A/N: Let me know how you liked this! **


	14. Riding In Cars With Boys

**A/N: This one-shot is inspired by a prompt from BittyAB18. She had a hilarious idea and I just ran with it! Quick note - just pretend that Jesse has a car in this. I know in the movie he doesn't, but...just pretend :D Hope you enjoy this!**

Riding In Cars With Boys

Jesse wanted their first time to be special. He had plans involving the perfect CD mix and candles and romance. She might not have cared about rose petals or soft jazz, but he did. He didn't want her to look back on their first time and have any regrets. So, he would make it perfect.

Of course, hormones got in the way, and they end up going at it in the front seat of his car behind one of the school buildings because both Kimmy Jin and Benji are fed up with catching them in the midst of some act in their dorm rooms. He hadn't intended for things to get this heated. Really, he hadn't. But then Beca is nibbling on his bottom lip and her hands are everywhere that they shouldn't be.

"Beca wait," he says, taking a hold of her hands as they travel south. "We shouldn't do this here."

"Why not?" she asks, leaning in and placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck. "Here…is…fine."

"No," he says, although he's having a hard time remembering why this place isn't a perfectly fine spot as she works on his neck. "This should be special."

"Screw special," she murmurs against his skin.

"Isn't that what it should be, though?" he asks, gently pushing her away. "I mean, this is our first time. It should be more than a car behind the science building."

Beca sits back on her side of the car and sighs.

"Jesse, that stuff doesn't matter to me. " He gives her a look and she says, "I mean it. I could care less about the right moment or the perfect scene. All that matters is that it's you." She reaches forward and takes a hold of his hand. "I feel like a total goober for saying that, but it's the truth. I only care that you're the one here. Everything else doesn't really matter."

Jesse shakes his head, smiling slightly. "You know, you're really something Beca."

She grins. "I know. And right now, I really want to bone my hot boyfriend."

The hesitation is gone and Jesse reaches forward and puts his hand on her back of her neck, drawing her mouth hard against his. She kisses him fully, and them murmurs against his mouth, "Push the seat back."

He pulls the lever and the seat jerks back, giving her enough room to straddle him. She lifts one leg and positions herself on his lap, leaning forward as she covers his mouth with hers. As they kiss, the heat building, he runs his hands along her bare legs, hiking her leg up farther as she grinds down on him. She shifts positions and as she comes down harder against him she feels something rip at her center.

"Ahh!" she cries out, collapsing against him. "Ahh, fuck…fuck…fuck!"

Jesse doesn't have a clue what is going on and he tries to ask what's wrong as she climbs off him, continuing her chorus of swear words.

"Beca, what happened?"

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and manages, "I, uh, think I pulled something?"

"Pulled something?"

She points down and his eyes widen. "You pulled something _there_?"

Beca frowns. "No, I'm pointing down there for my health."

"Uh…can I do anything?"

The thought of him anywhere near there makes her squirm and immediately pain rips through her core. She shakes her head quickly and says, "No. You are going nowhere near it. In fact, don't even look at it."

"Okay," he says immediately, nodding. "Okay, um, should I take you back to your dorm?"

Beca nods glumly. "Yeah. Guess you were right about this not being the right place."

* * *

Monday is dance practice for the Bella's and Beca struggles through the choreography as every stance that takes her legs farther apart than normal standing makes pain shoot through her body. While Beca never was one of the better dancers, Aubrey noticed that she was worse than usual and asks, "Beca, what's going on with you today?"

"I, uh, pulled something this weekend," Beca says, avoiding eye contact with Aubrey.

"Pulled what?"

"How about we just leave it at a vague something?" Beca suggests, not wanting to admit that embarrassment of the weekend in front of all of them. It was bad enough in front of Jesse.

"If you're injured in some way, Beca, I need to know," Aubrey says firmly. "We have a gig in a week. If I need to rework some of the choreography then I need to know that now."

Beca frowns and says, "Fine, I pulled him…"

She trails off and points downward. Aubrey follows the movement of Beca's hand and her eyes widen.

"You pulled your groin?" Fat Amy asks loudly. "How in the world did you manage that?"

"I know how," Stacie says, raising her hand. "That happened to me last year. The guy who did it to me – he was an A +."

Aubrey's eyes narrow and she clears her throat briefly before saying, "I see. Well, let this serve as a reminder for all of us, that Trebleboning leads to nothing but trouble."

"Seriously?" Beca says, mouth screwed into a frown.

"Don't get mad at _me_," Aubrey says. "You're the one who allowed your toner for Jesse sacrifice our gig next week."

"I'll be fine by next week," Beca says dismissively. "And please, for the love of everything holy and unholy, stop using the word toner."

Aubrey sniffs and says, "You can sit out of practice today. I expect you to watch, though, and learn from the other girls."

"Neat-o," Beca says sarcastically, moving over to the bleachers. As she passes Chloe the girl winks at her and says in a low voice, "I expect stories later."

Beca gives a tight smile, wishing that she had listened to Jesse in the first place and just waited for a free dorm room.

* * *

Beca is sitting out on the quad, listening to one of her mixes, when Jesse comes over and sits next to her. She takes off her earphones and he asks, "So, did you tell Aubrey about what happened this weekend?"

Beca frowns as she nods, wondering what the blonde did now.

"Yeah, she needed to know why I was so awful in dance practice."

"Okay," Jesse says, nodding. He reaches in his backpack and pulls out two cans of pop. "I guess her coming up to me today and asking me to please stop ruining everything makes more sense."

"She seriously said that?"

Jesse nods. "Yeah. If she didn't like me before – which I'm pretty sure she didn't – she definitely doesn't now."

"You don't sound too broken up," she says, smirking.

He shrugs. "Nah. I kind of like pissing her off. She gets this vein in her forehead that sort of throbs. It's funny stuff. Comedy gold, really."

Beca laughs. "You know, I've noticed the throbbing vein, too. I always know I'm going to _really _get yelled at when I see that."

"So, how are you feeling…" his voice drops low, "…down there?"

She smirks. "You know, you don't have to add that last part. I'll still know what you're talking about. And it's getting better. The lack of straddling things has helped."

"You better not be straddling things," Jesse says. "Unless it's me, of course."

"Well, of course," she says with feigned seriousness. "Anyway, I expect a speedy recovery. So…you better start planning that perfect night of romance you were talking about."

His eyes widen and he asks, "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

"What happened didn't spook you?"

She shakes her head. "It wasn't you, Jesse. It was the car. And my lack of flexibility. But I'm serious; plan that night of yours. I'll be there."

He leans forward and kisses her gently. She has other ideas, though, and takes his bottom lip between her teeth as the kiss breaks. She can see the lust clearly in his eyes and his hand is heavy on her leg as he asks, "How soon will you be ready for this night? Please say soon."

She grins, leaning in for another kiss. Against his lips she murmurs, "Believe me, when I'm ready you'll be the first to know."

**A/N: When I proof read this I was grinning like an idiot. I just love these two so much! Hope you enjoyed this. I'm planning on having The Wedding: Part II up next, but don't hold me to that. Sometimes I just get random ideas and end up doing those. Next chapter will most likely be up sometime this weekend. **


	15. Bella-Treble Bonding

**A/N: This is just a random one-shot set somewhere in Beca and Jesse's dating. Hope you enjoy!**

Bella-Treblemaker Bonding

"I sort of hate myself right now," Beca says, standing at the high-top table and taking a sip of her fruity and sadly non-alcoholic drink. It seems like a crime to be at something like this and _not _have alcohol.

"It's not that bad," Chloe assures her. "I mean, we're acapela groups. Karaoke is practically our calling."

"Ugh," Beca says, shuddering. "Just the word makes me want to gag."

"Come on, it'll be fun," Chloe says, throwing her arm around Beca's shoulders and giving her a little squeeze. Beca gives her a tight smile, attempting to find levity in the situation, but as someone belts out an off-key rendition of _Like a Virgin_, she's having trouble finding her happy place . There are just so many things she would rather be doing than standing in a karaoke bar.

"Let me guess, you're trying to keep her from running?" Jesse says, coming up next to Beca.

"You say it like I don't have a good reason for running," Beca says.

"Because you don't."

"I have a great reason," Beca counters.

Jesse raises his eyebrows and asks, "Oh, then what is it? And you can't say, because you don't like it."

Beca stalls for a moment and then says, "I-I have nodes."

"You do?" Chloe says in disbelief, pulling back as her hand floats to her chest. "That's just awful! That's-"

"You do not have nodes," Jesse interrupts, smirking. "But good try."

"Hold on, so you _don't _have nodes?" Chloe asks in confusion.

"No," Beca clarifies. "I was just…trying to get an excuse to not sing tonight."

"Nodes are really serious, Beca," Chloe says reprovingly. "You shouldn't joke about them."

"Yeah, my bad," Beca says, glaring at Jesse when she sees him holding back laughter. "That was, uh, insensitive of me."

"I'd say so," Chloe says.

"So, there is no reason why you shouldn't be here tonight," Jesse says, his voice holding a finality that makes Beca bristle. Why should she need to have a reason to not want to be there? All this forced Bella-Treblemaker bonding that had been happening as of late was starting to get on her nerves – and now Jesse was getting in on it, too.

Beca frowns. "I've had bad experiences with karaoke."

"Like what?"

"Um, having to sit through painful renditions of _Like a Virgin _like this," she says, gesturing toward the stage. "It borders on cruel and unusual punishment."

"Come on, tonight is supposed to be about fun," Jesse says. "And personally, I think if you went up there you would have a lot of fun."

"Oh no," Beca says, shaking her head. "I am here against my will – so you can be damn sure I will not be up on that stage."

"Chloe, we're up next!" Aubrey calls from the edge of the crowd. "We need to warm up!"

Chloe nods, all business, and tells Jesse and Beca, "Wish us luck. Last time we sang here, we didn't have to pay for drinks for the rest of the night. We're hoping for a repeat experience."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for you," Beca says.

Chloe goes off after Aubrey and it is just Jesse and Beca at the table. She turns toward him and asks, "What are you going to be singing?"

"I don't know," he says. "I was going to do a duet with you, but…"

"Don't try to pull that guilt trip thing with me," she tells him. "I know that _you _knew I wouldn't be singing tonight. Come on, Swanson, fess up."

He laughs. "Fine, I'm singing _Tell Me Something Good_. It's my go-to karaoke song."

"And why is that?"

"Fits comfortably in my range," he says. "Also, while this is not applicable now, it has been known to make the ladies go wild."

She smirks. "Oh, is that so? Did they fling bras at you?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "No. But I did get a sweatshirt once."

Beca holds back laughter as she says, "Someone flung a sweatshirt at you? Pretty sure that's not a compliment, Jesse."

"It was a really nice sweatshirt."

She snorts. "Yeah, but it's still one being _thrown_ at you."

The music changes and Beca says, "Thank God that torture is over." She watches Aubrey and Chloe step up onstage. "I wonder what song they're singing?"

"Whatever gets them free drinks all night."

Both wait for the beginning strains of the song. When it begins Beca laughs as she recognizes _I Feel Like A Woman_. Already Chloe begins to move her hips back and forth as Aubrey gives the audience a smoldering gaze. They begin to sing and the place goes wild.

"I think it's fair to say they'll be getting drinks tonight," Jesse says. Beca glances around the place, already spotting a few men who seem hypnotized by the duo's performance. Showing off their vocal chops, they insert harmonies and play around with the arrangement. They're working the stage and Beca has to admit – they almost make this whole karaoke thing seem fun. As the song nears its conclusion Jesse straightens and says, "Better gear up."

"You just got here," she says.

"I had one of the guys put my name in."

She rolls her eyes. "You are unbelievable."

He leans down and presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'll see you from the stage."

He walks into the crowd and as Chloe and Aubrey go back into the crowd he leaves it and walks onto the stage. He takes a firm hold of the mic stand as the music starts, tapping out the beat of the beat with his foot. When he starts to sing he scan the room, but then his eyes land squarely on her. She smirks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Your boy is on fire tonight," Fat Amy says, setting her drink next to Beca's. "Mmhhmm."

"He's such a ham," Beca says, although she's reluctant to admit that she can't take her eyes off of him. It always struck her as funny that he oozed so much sex appeal on stage. In his everyday life he was dorky more than anything else, yet when he stepped on stage he changed. Already she can see half of the female population at the venue drooling at his performance.

"You better watch out," Fat Amy says. "You may have some competition for your man tonight."

"I'm not worried," Beca says, taking a sip of her drink.

He hits a particularly high note, drawing it out, and Beca hears someone behind her say, "I know who I'm going after tonight."

Fat Amy heard to and glances over at Beca as she asks, "Still not worried?"

"Nope," Beca says. "Not worried."

The song ends and Jesse steps off the stage. She cranes her neck to watch him approach and is marginally bothered to see a girl stop him, hand on his shoulder as she leans in. Jesse pulls back, but the girl is persistent, grinning wide as she leans in further to say something into his ear. She watches Jesse extricate himself from the girl, and then another takes her place.

"_Still _not worried?" Fat Amy asks with a smirk.

"I'll be right back," Beca says, excusing herself from the table. She makes her way through the crowd and finds Jesse talking with two girls who are telling him about some gathering back at their place. Jesse catches her eye over one of the girl's shoulders and she keeps her expression neutral as she pushes her way between the two girls and throws her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. He's surprised but responds quickly, palming her waist and running his tongue along her own. She ends the kiss abruptly and puts an arm around his waist, pressing to his side as she faces the two girls

"Sorry girls," Beca says, gaze steely. "He's taken."

They move away and Jesse looks down at Beca, smirking as he says, "Well, hello there."

"Don't give me that look," she says.

"I wasn't flirting with them."

"I know you weren't," she says. "But you're also too nice to shoo them away. So, I did it for you."

"Rather effectively, might I add," he says. "There was some heat behind that kiss. I'm guessing you liked my performance."

"You know you're good," she says, patting his chest. "You don't need me to add to that ego."

"Fair enough," he says with a chortle. "So, are you still hell bent to not perform?"

"Yes, I am."

"Well," he begins, hand travelling down her waist to the curve of her hip. He leans in, whispering in her ear. "What would you say to getting out of here?"

"And doing what?" she asks innocently.

"I had a few ideas."

She grins. "Alright. Lead the way."

As they leave they pass Fat Amy and she asks where they're going. They give a quick answer, both of them anxious to get somewhere private. Fat Amy notices their fevered looks toward each other and grins wide.

"Aw yeah," she says, nodding. "You two have fun."

They leave hand-in-hand, something more exciting than karaoke on their minds.

**A/N: I know I said The Wedding would be next, but this just popped into my head! I am working on the second part of The Wedding currently, though, so that should be next. I'd love feedback on this!**


	16. Driving Ms Mitchell

**A/N: I know I promised another Wedding installment, but it is just not writing itself. I DO have another road-trip piece, though! Hope you enjoy this :D**

Driving Ms. Mitchell

Beca gazes out the passenger window, watching yet another car go into the outer lane and pass them. She doesn't remember what number car this is. She lost count somewhere around eight or nine. She keeps expecting Jesse to speed up and keep with traffic, but he maintains a steady 65 mph, humming a tune softly as he drives. Another car passes, the driver somewhere around the age of 70, and Beca can't take it anymore.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" she blurts out, leaning forward as she stares at Jesse. He sends her an innocent glance before returning his attention to the road.

"What?"

"Did you see what just happened?"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "What happened?"

"That car," Beca says loudly, pointing at the bumper of the Honda Accord that is already a good four car lengths in front of them. "That car – which is driven by someone old enough to collect social security – passed you up. How are you not noticing this?"

"I drive my speed," Jesse says. "And they drive theirs."

"Yeah," Beca says. "I've seen that with the, what, eight cars that have passed? GO FASTER."

"I am going the speed limit, Beca," Jesse says, gesturing to the speedometer. "What else do you want me to do?"

"Um, let me think, go faster? Everyone knows speed limits are suggestions more than anything!"

Jesse shakes his head. "Yeah, that's really not true."

"No one will say anything if you go five or ten over," Beca argues. "I know you're all Mr-Follow-The-Rules-"

"Hey, I'm not Mr….what you just said."

Beca laughs, eyes wide. "Seriously? You're seriously saying that?"

"I don't always follow the rules."

"Uh yeah, you do," Beca says. "You refuse to jaywalk. I've never seen you do a rolling stop. And you never sneak candy into movies."

"Now, that last one is for a good reason," Jesse says. "Movie candy's better."

"It's the same candy!"

"Yeah, but it tastes better."

"Again, it is the _same candy_."

"Look, there is nothing wrong with being a safe driver," Jesse tells her. "And going the speed limit is driving safely."

"And you think all these cars swerving in and out of lanes to pass you is safe?"

"That's their choice-"

"Yeah, because you drive like an eighty year old," she interrupts. "Actually, I take that back, because an eighty year old just _passed _you."

"Look, I am going to drive the way that I drive," Jesse says. "And when you drive, you can drive the way _you _drive."

"You can bet your ass I will," Beca says, tilting her head back against the seat. She's silent for a moment and then says, "You're never going to let me drive, are you?"

Jesse's eyes stay trained on the road as he replies, "Nope."

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Beca says, switching channels on the radio. She wrinkles her nose at the song playing and switches the channel again. "How can every channel be playing Taylor Swift?"

"It can't be every channel," Jesse says. "Try another."

"I've tried a lot," Beca says. "And besides, we don't get all the stations out here."

"Well, Taylor Swift isn't that bad," Jesse tries. "There's, uh, a lot of feeling in her songs."

Beca gives him a look, switching the channel. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

She switches the channel again and Jesse loudly says, "Stop! Stop here!"

She listens to the song playing and gasps lightly when she recognizes the melody.

"No way," she says. "Is this-"

"_Amish Paradise_," Jesse says with a grin, nodding. "One of Weird Al's finest, if I do say."

"What channel is playing this?" Beca wonders aloud. "And why does this channel exist?"

"Why would this channel _not _exist?" Jesse returns with a toothy grin. His head starts bobbing along with the beat, and she nearly flings herself from the car when he begins to sing along.

"I think we need to turn this off for the sake of our relationship."

"What? Come on, Beca, this is a great song."

"I think your definition of great needs tweaking."

He continues to sing along with exaggerated facial expressions and she shakes her head.

"You're lucky you're cute, kid."

* * *

They're driving down the freeway and it's almost nighttime. As it grows darker outside they search for somewhere to stop for the night, and pass the time by discussing all the possible ways Bumper will ruin his stint in L.A.

"He'll be part of a drug bust," Jesse begins. "But not a cool part. It'll be something like his first time actually going to get some himself. And he'll happen to be there when the police raid."

"Alright," Beca says, nodding appreciatively. "A drug raid. Not bad."

"He also will pee himself when he sees the police."

Beca grins. "Even better."

"Your turn," Jesse says, reaching forward and adjusting the air conditioning.

"Easy peasy," Beca says. "Caught with a prostitute."

"Oohh, a classic!"

"_But_, upon being caught with her will find out that the she is actually a he. Which will then, of course, make him question his sexuality and he will go through a spiritual journey ending in him being holed up in a Kabbalah retreat where he meditates for five hours a day and will only answer to the name Master Yee."

Jesse snorts, glancing at her. "You really thought that through, didn't you?"

"I have a lot of down time at Bella rehearsals."

"Maybe he'll just do something normal over there and get a DUI or something."

"That would involve Bumper having a car," Beca says. Jesse nods and she innocently adds, "You sure his feet would reach the pedals?"

Jesse laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. "Nice height dig. You know, he'd be an unsettling shade of purple right now if he heard you."

"Yes," she says with a placid grin. "And it is with that image that I am able to sleep at night. Hey – Super 8 at the next exit!"

"Next exit it is," Jesse says, putting on his directional signal and pulling into the outer lane. They veer off into the exit and Jesse snickers softly to himself, shaking his head. Beca smirks and asks, "What?"

"I'm just imagining Bumper meditating."

Beca grins. "It's pretty great, isn't it?"

The Super 8 is just a few blocks off the exit and they pull into the parking lot, stopping near the front of the motel. Beca leans her head back against the seat and says, "Thank God the driving is over for today."

She climbs out and Jesse murmurs, "You can say that again."

**A/N: A little Beca and Jesse driving bickering for your pleasure. I'd love your feedback :D**


	17. The Wedding: Part II

**A/N: I finally wrote this! Hope you enjoy it! I already have ideas for the next part :D**

The Wedding: Part II

She thinks she sees him everywhere. First it's at the grocery store. She's picking out lettuce and she swears that he's over by the tomato stand. She recognizes the back of his head, and the way that he handles that tomato is _just _right, and then he turns around and it's not him. Same thing happens when she's driving. It happens again when she's picking up some things from Target and then when she's at the video store. He's everywhere, and yet her phone isn't ringing.

It's been three weeks since the wedding.

Three weeks since she saw him.

Three weeks since he said he'd call.

She tries not to think about it and to get on with her days and nights as if nothing is wrong. In reality, nothing _is _wrong. She doesn't even want him to call that bad, anyway. It's just the principal of the matter. He said he would call. And he claims to be a nice guy, and nice guys call when they're supposed to. So that's really all she's annoyed with – him not living up to that good guy persona that he wore like a shield.

Her and Fat Amy have started talking more frequently, though, and when they talk Amy fills Beca in on married life. It's mostly talk about sex – Amy's favorite topic.

"It's non-stop," she tells Beca over the phone. Beca called her because she had to scrub her stove – and it was just about her least favorite thing after cleaning toilets and any Adam Sandler movie. Talking to Amy distracts her from the fact that she's wearing bright yellow gloves and inhaling toxic fumes.

"Non-stop, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Amy says. "The man's a machine. I thought it was supposed to become routine with marriage, but he's become a whole different man. It's like I married the sexual Energizer Bunny."

"So, you're basically living the dream?" Beca says, going at a particular difficult patch of grime at the edge of the stovetop.

Amy does her guttural laugh and coos, "You have no idea. So, you and that hunk of man get physical yet?"

Beca scrubs the edge of the stove vigorously, suds slushing over the edge.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Beca says.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Amy says loudly. "J-e-s-s-e Swanson, Beca."

"I haven't heard from him."

"What? That can't be right."

"Well, that's what's happening," Beca says tersely. "Or, what _isn't _happening. Whatever. It's stupid to try to rekindle anything anyway. I mean, what are we playing at? What am _I _playing at?"

"It's not stupid to rekindle things," Amy presses. "You know, he only came to my wedding because I told him that _you _would be there."

Beca's efforts at the stove still and she straightens abruptly. "He what?"

"He wasn't going to come," Amy says. "Said he had a work thing or something. It was complete bol shit and we both knew it. Anyway, I hinted that you were going to be there and lo and behold, his work schedule cleared."

"You don't know that that isn't what actually happened," Beca stammers. "Work schedules can…clear."

"Don't be dense, Becs," Fat Amy says dismissively. "He wasn't at that wedding for my hot ass. He was there for yours."

Beca leans against the stove, raking her fingers through her hair.

"I don't like being this person," Beca finally says. "I don't…I don't wait for people. I don't stare at my phone and wonder why someone isn't calling. I've never been this person."

"It can be a good thing to open yourself up to people," Amy says. "You know, I used to be closed off from people."

Beca snorts. "No, I didn't know that."

"But then I met Brad and it was different."

"That is so corny that I want to barf," Beca says.

"Screw you," Amy says, laughing. "But none of us are that girl until we meet someone who makes us her."

"Isn't that a bad thing?"

"Depends on the guy," Amy says. Beca can almost picture her standing in front of her and executing a familiar shrug. "But, if you want my opinion, Jesse's one of the good ones. He always has been."  
"Yeah," Beca grunts. She sighs, turning back to the oven. "That's what I thought, too."

* * *

He calls the very next day and she can't help but wonder if Amy had put him up to it. To his credit, he sounds embarrassed that he waited so long. He goes on for a few minutes that he's been really busy and work was insane. It ends in him taking a long pause and then admitting, "Yeah, I was just scared to call."

They meet for coffee at a café down in The Grove and they celeb watch as they make their way through uneventful conversation. After all the years, they don't really know where to begin. It had been so easy at the wedding, but that was a singular moment, and this is life – it's 24 hours a day, 365 days of the year, and both of them get spooked.

"The weather's not bad today," Beca says slowly. "Nice and, uh, breezy."

"Yeah," Jesse says nodding. "The breeze is pretty nice. It's one of the benefits of living in L.A. You get lots of good breezes."

She nods blankly. "That you do."

He's looking at something over her shoulder and she wonders why this is suddenly so hard. She had thought he felt something back in that hotel room, but now they're sitting talking about breezes.

"Hey, it's John Stamos," Jesse says, mouth pulling into a toothy grin. "Uncle Jesse in the flesh."

"Jesse-"

"You should turn around," he tells her. "This is a once in a lifetime chance, Beca."  
"It's fine, I sat next to him at the movie theater once," Beca says dismissively. "He's a really loud popcorn eater."

"Huh, that's surprising. I would have thought-"

"Jesse, please stop talking," Beca says, voice heavy.

"Uh, okay," he says uncertainly. "I'll stop talking."

"No, I don't want you to stop talking," Beca says, shaking her head. "I just want you to stop talking about breezes and John Stamos."

"Okay, no more breezes or John Stamos."

She takes a deep breath, gearing herself up for whatever awkwardness she is about to bring down on herself, and says, "I know you went to Amy's wedding because of me."

He shifts a bit in his seat and says, "Wow, so we're going straight there?"

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she asks pointedly.

"No, I mean, I thought we'd have a little bit of a warm-up first."

"What the hell do you think the twenty minute chat about weather was?"

"Fair enough."

"So, is it true?" Beca asks.

"Is what true?"

"Did you go to Amy's wedding because of me?"

He hesitates for a moment and then tells her, "Yeah, I did."

She doesn't say anything, trying to stave off the ridiculous grin that she can feel pulling at her mouth. He takes in her silence and says, "You know, you could have some reaction. I'd take anything, really. Acceptance. Outrage. Flinging your coffee at me across the table."

"This coffee is too good to throw at you," Beca answers immediately. She smiles slightly and she can see him relax. "So, what happens now?"

"I don't know," Jesse says with a shrug. "What do you want to happen?"

Beca considers it for a moment and says, "I wouldn't hate a muffin."

He smirks. "A muffin? That's what you want next?"

"Yeah," she says, smiling slightly. "You know, maybe sex afterwards, too. But we can talk about that after the muffin."

He laughs, nodding as he leans forward. "Alright then. Let me get you that muffin."

She grins. "Alright."

* * *

They don't sleep together that night. That won't come for a while, but they do watch a movie in her apartment, him holding off on his usual running commentary for the movie's entirety. She enjoys it while she can, knowing full well that it is only because this is the start of…whatever it is…and he's on his best behavior. It's nice to be with him again. She doesn't exactly know what all of it means, but as they sit side by side on her couch she thinks to herself that she had missed this. She had missed him.

The night ends with a chaste kiss on the cheek. Against her skin he murmurs, "I'll call you tomorrow."

He leaves and she spends the rest of the night watching awful reality shows on Bravo, trying to keep herself from texting him. She goes to bed and when she wakes up there's a text from him at exactly 12:01.

_I promised to call you tomorrow._

_And as it is technically tomorrow, I don't want to get yelled at for not calling._

She knows she's grinning like one of those idiotic girls from those chick-flicks Chloe used to make her watch at Barden, but she can't help herself. Leaning back against the backboard of her bed, she murmurs to herself, "Get it together, weirdo."

**A/N: Feedback is love :D**


	18. Party Crashers

**A/N: This is another part of the roadtrip. Just a random piece inspired by something that happened to me this weekend. Hope you enjoy!**

****Party Crashing

"Turn off at the next exit," Beca says, crossing her legs tightly. "I need to pee."

"Again? Seriously?" Jesse says. "Didn't you go, what, an hour ago?"

"But then I drank that entire Big Gulp," she reminds him. "And, anyway, commenting on my bathroom habits? Rude."

"And we're pulling off," Jesse sing-songs, taking the exit. "I'm guessing your ban on gas station bathrooms still stands?"

"You bet your ass," Beca retorts. The last time she had used a gas station bathroom a trucker walked in on her while she was in the middle of going and he got a full view of her goodies before she could press her knees together.

"Alright, we have a McDonalds and Swan Hills Country Club," Jesse says, reading off the sign of exit locations as he passes.

"Swan Hills Country Club," Beca says immediately, her mouth pulling at a grin. "I bet you their bathrooms are real classy."

"Is it really necessary for it to be classy? You'll be in there for, what, five seconds?"

"I'm emotionally scarred after that gas station experience," Beca answers defensively. "If a trucker in desperate need of a shave got a shot of your nether regions, you'd be going for Swan Hills Country Club, too."

"Whatever you say," Jesse says, pulling into the parking lot. "And personally speaking, I would quite enjoy if a trucker got a shot of my nether regions."

Beca wrinkles her nose. "Please never make a joke like that again."

"Want me to wait in the car?" he asks, taking a spot near he entrance.

"Yep, I'll be quick."

Beca climbs out of the car and moves into the building, finding her way quickly to the bathroom. She was right about it being classy. It's all gold inlay and wallpaper, and the soap smells like one they'd charge eighteen dollars a bottle for at some fancy soap store. She walks out of the bathroom and wanders down the hall for a moment, peeking into a few of the large banquet halls. There are several big banquets going on, people crammed in the large rooms like sardines. She gets an idea and walks quickly back to Jesse and the car.

"You ready?" he asks when she opens the door and peeks her head in.

"Turn off the car," Beca says.

"What's going on?"

A slow grin spreads on her face and she says, "We're about to crash some fancy-person-party."

Jesse stares at her and says, "Well, this sounds like an awful idea."

* * *

"What are the odds of us getting kicked out here?" Jesse says, standing with Beca at the side of the banquet hall. It's a good sized room with a smattering of tables in the center, most of them filled with guests. At the front of the room is a make-shift stage where a band that looks to be straight from the local high school playing.

"I think we're good," Beca tells him. "We just need to look like we fit in."

"Meaning..."

"Meaning we should get in on those appetizers over there," Beca says, pointing at the table of food a few feet from them. "No one questions people with food."

Jesse snorts. "Something tells me that your logic is lacking."

"That's probably true," she tosses off. "But there are Swedish meatballs over there. And little mushroom thingies. And did I mention-"

"You don't have to say anymore," he returns, laying a hand on her arm. "You had me at Swedish meatballs."

She laughs, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the line for the appetizers. They stand behind an older couple who is actively discussing their different medications. Beca leans in and whispers, "I hope that's us in forty or fifty years."

"We could only be so lucky," he returns with a smirk.

The line moves forward and they grab plates, piling it high with food. Jesse takes several spoonfulls of the Swedish meatballs, thinking to himself that even if they get caught and thrown out, it would be worth it for this food. The band up front starts playing _Forget You _and Beca turns around, nodding her head to the beat while Jesse says, "_Great _song."

The intro plays through and Jesse begins to sing along to what he thought would be the first verse. He trails off when he hears that he's the only one singing. The older couple glances over at him reprovingly.

"Awkward," Beca says in a low voice, snickering.

"They _should _be singing," Jesse says, glancing at the stage. "Hey, I didn't notice the band was so young."

Beca nods her head in agreement. "They look straight from the local high school."

"I think they are," Beca says, glancing to her side. "We better be careful what we say. Don't want their families to jump us."

"What's going on up there?" Jesse says, watching them meander aimlessly around the stage as they continue to only play the chord progressions.

"I don't know," Beca says. "But I'm pretty sure the one in the back is texting."

Jesse cranes his neck to catch the guy in the back and sure enough he is holding his phone, typing furiously. Jesse's mouth drops open as he murmurs, "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Hey, he could have some really pressing texting needs," Beca says. "Maybe his pick-up time has changed and he needed tell his mom."

Both fall silent as the guy on the phone starts to sing, his nose practically buried in his phone.

"No way," Jesse says. "Is he…"

"Yep," Beca says, mouth pulling into a wide grin. "This is officially the best thing ever."

"I can't believe. He's literally reading the lyrics off his phone. Don't you think they would have practiced this?"

"Don't ask me," Beca says, shaking her head. "Oh, this is too good to be true."

The song leads into the chorus and when the singer can't reach the notes he drops the song down an octave. Jesse winces.

"This is painful," he says. "Like, it is causing me actual physical pain."

"I know," Beca says, looking at him. "Your neck is doing that throbby-vein-thing."

The bassist moves to the side, as if to point something out to the singer, and nearly takes down a mic stand. Laughing into her hand, Beca gasps, "This is the greatest thing _ever_."

The band plays for another twenty minutes or so, the rest of their set significantly better than _Forget You_. At the end of their set an older man steps on stage and chorales the room into giving the band a round of applause. Beca claps heartily while Jesse laughs at her. The guy walks over to the side of the stage where a computer is set up, and begins talking about some boy named Jamie. As he talks a picture goes up on the projector and Beca and Jesse both gape at the stage as the guy says, "Jamie is fighting his cancer really hard and he wanted to thank all of you for your support. We actually have a video message from him thanking you all."

As the picture switches to a video Jesse breathes out, "Oh my God, did we crash a cancer kid's benefit?"

"Alright, I did not see this coming," Beca says, staring at the screen as the little boy talks. "Want to leave now?"

"More than you know."

They move through the crowd quickly, but before they leave Jesse pulls out his wallet and stuffs a twenty-dollar bill in a donation basket.

* * *

"So, what did we learn from this experience?" Jesse asks rhetorically as he pulls onto the Interstate. "We should not crash parties."

"Uh huh," Beca says. "Although, this was a pretty worst-case-scenario experience."

"I am only going to parties I've been invited to from now on," Jesse says. "Actually, no, I will only go to parties that I set up myself. And our next stop is a church. Or temple."

"Look, we learned our lesson," Beca says slowly. "And if you think I'm stepping in a church, you have another thing coming."

"At least I slipped that twenty in," Jesse says. "That makes it sort of alright, right?"

"Totally," Beca says. "Well...maybe partially."

Jesse frowns. "We are so going to hell."

**A/N: I have to note here that I did not crash a benefit for someone with cancer. I DID however attend one rightfully and the entire band bit actually happened. It was priceless. Hope you enjoyed this! Feedback is love :D**


	19. The Wedding: Conversations

**A/N: Next part of The Wedding! Hope you enjoy!**

The Wedding: Conversations

They become inseparable. They've become one of those pairs that she'd always made fun of before. He has a tooth brush at her place. She has a drawer at his. They go grocery shopping together and go see a movie every Sunday after lunch. For all intents and purposes they are a couple, but she's wary to adopt any label. Things had changed at Barden when they had forced themselves into that girlfriend-boyfriend mold. She didn't want that to happen again.

So, they don't talk about what they are. They never have that conversation that everyone claims is so important. She doesn't think they need it. She's happy. He's happy. Why ruin things by putting unnecessary pressure or to label something that didn't need labeling in the first place?

She thinks everything is fine until they go to a cocktail party that one of her friends from the recording studio is hosting, and she introduces Jesse as her friend. He seems icier toward her after that, and she tells herself that she's imagining things until he openly ignores her when addressed directly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demands, pulling him to the side.

"Nothing, _buddy_," he says, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Buddy?" she repeats, giving him a look.

"That's what I am to you, right? I'm your buddy?"

She tries to rack her brain for what he could possibly be upset about, and she remembers how she had introduced him earlier.

"You're not seriously upset about that, are you?"

"No Beca," he says slowly. "That's fine. I'm just your buddy. We have sex practically every night, but we're just _buddies_."

"Look, I thought it'd be better if we didn't try to label things," she presses. "It's cleaner."

"Yeah, and also a lot easier to run away from when things get tough," he shoots back. "Nothing's changed has it?"

"Jesse-"

"You know what, you call this whatever you want. I'm heading back to my place."

"What? Jesse, come on."

"I have an early morning anyway," he says dismissively. "I'll just talk to you later."

"Jesse-"

He leaves before she can say anything else and she wonders just how she had managed to fuck everything up.

* * *

She goes to his place despite his whole early-morning-spiel. She doesn't like that they're fighting, and she thinks that maybe – just maybe – he had been right about her just trying to make things easier. It was easier if they didn't have a label. Just as the outside world didn't hang expectations on them then, neither did they.

She knocks on his door four times before he answers. He's wide awake, still dressed in his clothes from earlier, and she wonders where had had stood as he stared at the door and contemplated not opening it.

"I snuck some desserts out for you," she says, pulling a napkin stuffed with cookies from her purse. "Figure it'd be a sort of peace offering."

"I'm really not in the mood to talk," he says flatly.

"Good, uh, because I'm here to do most of the talking," she says, placing the napkin of cookies on the dresser near the door. "Surprise, huh?"

"I guess."

He's just standing there and she finds herself getting more and more nervous with each passing breath. She clears her throat and asks, "Can we, uh, sit down maybe? I feel a little…"

He nods, sitting down on the edge of the couch. She sits next to him, almost a full seat cushion away to give him space.

"I don't really know what to say," she starts off, unconsciously wringing her hands in her lap. "I'm not good at this. I just thought…I didn't realize that what I did earlier would hurt you. And I don't want to hurt you. Believe it or not, I never want to hurt you. Even when I do."

"Like when you introduce me as your friend?" he asks sarcastically.

"You're more than that," she says. "I thought you knew that."

"I do," he says. "I just don't understand why you don't want other people to."

"That's not-"

"Does this mean something to you?" he asks. "Because sometimes I can't tell. Sometimes I think I'm just convenient for you to have around."

"No," she says immediately, scooting closer. "You do mean something to me. You do."

"Show me then," he says. "Show me that this means something to you. Because it means something to me, too. And if we're not on the same page…"

She stares down at her hands, trying to find some way to show him what he's asking of her. He means more than he knows, and words will never be enough to show that, because she's never been good with them. So, she does what she knows, and she turns toward him, leaning in as she brings her mouth to his. He pulls away immediately and says, "Dammit Beca. Stop."

She pulls away, fighting back tears that she hates because she's a grown woman and grown women don't cry.

"What do you want from me?"

"To have a real conversation," he says. "Not one that devolves into us bare-backing it on the couch, for Christ's sake."

"Okay," she says, nodding. "Let's talk."

"What's the real reason you didn't tell them we were dating?"

She wants to look away, feeling the same rush of nerves she always felt when faced with a direct question like this, but she forces herself to hold his gaze.

"I don't want what happened to us at Barden to happen again here."

"What do you mean?"

"We were happy, and then people started putting all these pressures and expectations on us. We tried to live up to what everyone else thought we should be, and that's when things got bad. For me, at least, that's when we stopped being us."

"You think that'll happen now?"

"Why would it not? It's the same thing."

"No, it's not," he says, shaking his head. "We're completely different people now, Beca. I mean, think about it, we were so young. We barely had our own identities down, not to mention our identity as a couple."

"I just can't help thinking that you only get so many do-overs," Beca says. "If this is our last chance, I don't want to screw it up repeating the same mistakes we made before."

He reaches forward and takes her hands in his.

"I promise you, we will not repeat those mistakes," he says. "And if we do, then I'll make sure we get at least one more do-over."

She wants to cry again then, because he's looking at her with that tender look that was always reserved for her, and she can't believe how lucky she was to have found him not once, but twice.

"I'm so sorry that I hurt you earlier," she murmurs. "I was being stupid. I was-"

"You were afraid," he interrupts, leaning forward and bringing his hand to the curve of her jaw. "And yeah, you were a little stupid, too. But I'm a little stupid most of the time, so it evens out."

She laughs a bit, laying her hand over his wrist. He leans in and gently brushes his lips against hers. As she returns the kiss she thinks to herself that she is kissing her boyfriend, and maybe labels aren't that bad after all.

**A/N: A little angst with a sweet ending. Hope you enjoyed!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: This story is inspired by my own nagging cold that I've been fighting the past few days. With it finally being the weekend I am taking a sick day and decided to write this. Hope you enjoy! **

The Couple That Shares Everything

Beca turns over in her bed, groaning as she pulls the covers up to her chin. It's the third day of her cold, and she really thinks it's about time this stupid illness took to the streets. Seriously, three days. Couldn't it find someone else to infect? Like Kimmy Jin, maybe. She'd deserve it after all the grumbling she did about Beca and her contagious germs. It's like she thought Beca _chose _to be sick. Which is ridiculous, because out of everything – including laundry and bonding weekends with The Stepmonster – Beca hates being sick the most. As someone accustomed to being fairly self-sufficient, it's unsettling for her to be in a state where she has to ask for help.

There's a knock on the door and Beca calls out, "It's open."

Jesse walks in, a brown bag with what she can only hope is soup in his hand. He closes the door behind him and says, "You know, this is a safety hazard. You really should lock your door."

"But then I'd have to get up to answer it," Beca returns, propping herself up against the pillow so that she was sitting up. "Which is so not happening. Did you get the soup?"

"Yes," he says, dragging the chair from her desk over to the side of the bed. "They didn't have the chicken enchilada one, so you're going to have to settle for chicken noodle. I did have them add some chili powder, though. I think you'll like the little kick it gives it."

Beca smiles slightly. "Look at you, Bobby Flay."

"I also brought you something else," he says, taking the soup out of the bag and handing it over to her with a plastic spoon. She takes the lid off and asks, "Yeah, what?"

He reaches into the bag and pulls out two DVD cases. Beca groans, shaking her head.

"Jesse, I'm _sick. _You are not allowed to force me to watch movies."

"These movies do not require forcing," he says. "_The Goonies _and _It Happened One Night _are classics."

"Aren't you afraid I'll infect you with my germs?" she tries half-heartedly.

"I already thought of that," Jesse says crisply. "Which is why…" he reaches into the bag again and pulls out a packet of Emergen-C "…I bought this."

Beca frowns and says, "You were a boy scout, weren't you?"

Jesse grins. "No. I'm just prepared for anything. So, how are you feeling?"

"The answer was better before you whipped those movies out."

Jesse leans in and lays the palm of his hand against her forehead. She glances up at his hand and asks, "What are you doing?"

"I'm seeing if you feel warm. You don't, by the way. That's good."

"Yeah, my fever broke this morning," she says, dipping the spoon in the soup and depositing the spoonful in her mouth. The chili powder was a nice addition – lending a bit of a bite to the normally banal soup.

"Have you taken your medicine yet?" Jesse asks.

She shakes her head, taking another spoonful of the soup. "I'm done with that medicine. It tastes like ass and clearly isn't doing its job."

"You need to give it time," he says. "Where is it?"

"Calm down, _Mom_."

He gives her a look – softening it with a slight grin – and says, "I just want you to get better. I can't fully taunt you when you're in a weakened state. That would be cruel."

Beca goes to retort when her face contorts and she jerks the soup out toward him, which he takes just a moment before she falls prey to a string of violent sneezes. Jesse leans away from her with the soup.

"This is hell," she says morosely, plucking a tissue from the box at her side and wiping her nose. "This is literally hell."

"Vaseline," Jesse says suddenly.

"Huh?"

"For your nose," he explains, leaning forward and placing the soup on her nightstand. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper and pen. "It'll help with the irritation from blowing your nose so much. I'll pick some up later today and drop it off here."

"You don't have to."

"I know I don't," he says. "But I want to. If I can do something to make this miserable for you then I will."

Beca stares at him and murmurs, "You are way too nice for me."

"Opposites attract," he says with a smirk.

She chuckles and takes the soup from the nightstand. Jesse glances back at her desk and says, "Aha, I think I spot some Dayquil over there."

"Jesse," she groans. "I said no."

"And normally I would respect that," he says, standing up and grabbing the medicine. "But, right now, the matter of the fact is that you are actively making yourself feel worse. Which is ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous," she counters weakly.

"Chase it with the soup," he suggests, measuring out a dosage. "It'll kill the taste."

He hands her the small plastic cup filled with thick red liquid and she murmurs, "I hate you."

"I know," he says dismissively. "Now be a good girl and take your medicine."

She glares at him and says, "If I weren't confined to this bed I would kick your ass for that."

He grins. "I timed it well then, didn't I?"

She gives him another look and then takes the medicine, tipping her head back as she got down the last drop. The artificial cherry flavor is bitter on her tongue and she makes a face before quickly shoving a spoonful of the soup into her mouth.

"See, that wasn't that bad," Jesse says.

"You did not take the medicine, therefore you do not get to comment," she says.

"Alright, alright," Jesse says. "Would it make you feel better if I let you off the hook for the movies?"

She settles back against the pillow, studying his face. "You were never going to make me watch them in the first place, were you?"

He grins, shaking his head. "Nope."

"So, that's your big plan for tonight?" she asks, taking another spoonful of soup. "You know, you're sort of boring without me."

"Who said I'd be without you?" She looks at him strangely and he says, "I thought I'd bunk here tonight. I don't think Kimmy Jin is taking good enough care of you."

"Kimmy Jin is avoiding me at all costs."

"Exactly," Jesse says. "You need someone to look after you."

"So, you _are _going to make me watch those movies," she says dryly.

"No, I'm not. I figure you'll pass out by eight or nine. I'll watch them on your computer after that."

"You know, you really don't have to stay," she tells him.

"I know," he says simply. "So, how's that soup? Pretty good with the chili powder, right?"

She grins slightly.

* * *

She falls asleep before nine and he's at her desk watching _The Goonies_. The movie is one of his favorites but he keeps getting distracted by Beca's tossing and turning. He'd never really been around someone sick when they sleep. It's a fitful rest – if it can even be called that. He turns off the movie and closes the laptop. Beca continues to fidget and he hesitates for a moment before walking over to the bed and slipping in beside her. He is well aware that he is flirting dangerously with her cold at this point, but he doesn't care. He just hopes his presence will give her some comfort.

She lays his hand on the curve of her waist, and she turns toward him, resting her head on his chest. She shifts a bit more against him and then relaxes, her hot breath on his neck. He closes his eyes tightly when she coughs and thinks to himself that he has probably just damned himself to a week of this cold himself. But she's stopped fidgeting, her breath settling, and he decides that maybe it's worth it.

* * *

Exactly one week later their roles are reversed. Jesse is sick in bed and she sits beside him on the chair from his desk, trying to make him take the same medicine she resisted the week before. He relents much easier than she did. After he takes it, wincing at the acrid taste, he murmurs, "You know, now we can tell people that we really are the couple that shares everything."

**A/N: I have no idea if this is good. But I enjoyed writing it all the same :) Hope you enjoyed reading!**


	21. A Very Pitch Perfect Valentine's Day

**A/N: Hope you enjoy this!**

A Very Pitch Perfect Valentine's Day

They made a Valentine's Day pact.

"No gifts," Beca said, laying down the ground rules. "And nothing cutesy or romantic. I know you like grand gesture and all-"

Jesse cleared his throat and she said, "Okay, I only did that _one _grand gesture because it was the only way I could think of for you to actually listen to me. You, on the other hand, live your life like it is one grand gesture."

Jesse went to argue, but then saw she had a point.

"Alright," he said. "I will be on my best behavior."

"Good."

They were sitting in one of the café's near campus, matching green tea lattes between them, and he asked, "So, why are we having this anti-Valentines-day talk, anyway? I thought girls were supposed to love all that crap."

"It's revolting," Beca said, scrunching her nose. "It's just some commercial holiday made to sell greeting cards and chocolate. Every loving act is practically stamped with the Hallmark and Godivia logo."

"I guess I should have seen you not liking Valentine's Day," Jesse said, taking a sip of his drink.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you're sort of the anti-girl."

She gave him a look. "Excuse me?"

"I don't mean that in a bad way," he told her placatingly. "But I've found that whatever the normal girl response to something would be, you are usually the opposite."

"You are so full of shit."

"No, I'm 100% right," he said, laughing. "Pretty sure that last little exclamation of yours proved it."

"Fine, so I'm not some girly girl," Beca said, leaning back in her chair. "But I'm girl enough."

Jesse smirked. "Yes, you are. I'm not complaining. I could never date a girl who was too wrapped up in that girl world, anyway." He leaned forward and covered her hand with his. "I like you just the way you are, Beca."

* * *

So, they decided no gifts or fancy dinners. There was a strict dress code that didn't allow anything nicer than jeans. It all seemed perfect until it was Valentine's Day and Beca found herself afflicted with an unusual case of the girl feelings. She never cared about Valentine's Day before, but that was largely because she never had anything to celebrate before, either. With Jesse everything had changed, and she was surprised to find that she had, too.

"What's going on over there?" Jesse asked, popping a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth. "You're unusually quiet."

"Just thinking," she said evasively.

"About what?"

She hesitated and then told him, "Maybe we should do something tonight."

"We are doing something," he said. "Burgers and _The Goonies_, right?"

She shook her head. "No, I mean _actually _do something. Something festive. Something Valentine's Day-ey."

"You're kidding," he said with disbelief.

"Never mind," she said quickly, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was stupid. I mean, where would we even get reservations tonight. I just…you know what, forget that I said anything. Burgers and _The Goonies _sounds fine."

"Now, hold on a second," Jesse said, turning toward her. "You really want a real Valentine's Day?"

"Jesse, I told you-"

"Tell me the truth," Jesse said slowly, holding her gaze. "Do you want a real Valentine's Day?"

She paused for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah, I guess. I mean…that wouldn't suck."

He paused for a beat and then said, "Alright. Then you'll have a real Valentine's Day."

"Jesse, it was a stupid idea. You're not going to be able to get reservations anywhere this late."

"Don't worry about the details," Jesse said. "I have it under control."

"But-"

"I have it under control."

* * *

He texted her later that afternoon with a meeting time and location. She thought it was a little strange that he had them meeting in front of the record store, but he made it clear earlier that he was in charge of the plans. Her dogged questions earlier had him saying, "I have it under control", a record of eight times before he threatened to break up with her. So, she let him do the planning.

She wore one of her nicer dresses and made the short walk over to the record store. They didn't exactly specify where outside the record store they would meet, so she stood by the door, shoulders scrunched up to her ears from the cold. She heard the door open behind her, and hoped that it wasn't Luke trying to snag her for some last minute work. She turned around and her mouth dropped open when she took in the sight of Jesse standing in front of her in a suit. She made a few incoherent utterances and he said, "I didn't really catch any of that, but you look nice, too."

She laughed. "So, where are we going?"

He held open the door to the shop and she looked at him in confusion. "The record store?"

"Just trust me."

"If we stack CDs I am going to throw them at your face."

"I promise you, no CD stacking."

She walked past him into the store and found herself at a loss of words for the second time that night. Jesse had transformed the record store with candles and music. He cleared off one of the tables and had a bottle of wine set out next to the bag of what she could smell were burgers and French fries.

"The food stayed the same," Jesse said, stepping next to her. "But I did my best to kick the ambiance up a notch."

"Jesse, this is amazing." She glanced around the room again. "Where did you get all the candles?"

"Part of them are my own personal collection," Jesse said. "Not all of them, though. I made a quick run to the dollar store. That red and white checked tablecloth is courtesy of Dollar Tree, too."

She turned toward him and kissed him soundly, hands resting on his chest. He was taken by surprise but then kissed her back, arms sliding around her waist. Breaking the kiss Beca told him, "I absolutely love this, Jesse. Thank you."

He kissed the tip of her nose and said, "This is what you deserve, Beca. You deserve a real Valentine's Day, or well…whatever this is."

"This is perfect," she murmured. "Thank you."

She kissed him again and then pulled away, taking a hold of his hand and pulling him toward the table.

"We better get eating. No one likes cold French fries."

"Now that is not entirely true," Jesse said, pulling out her seat for her. "It depends on how the cold French fries are consumed. The optimal choice, of course, is with barbecue sauce. However, ketchup will work in a pinch."

Beca shook her head, grinning slightly. "You are such a dork."

"Now, hot French fries," Jesse said, siting down. "There's only one true way to eat them."

Beca leaned forward. "And what was it that, Jesse?"

"Salt and pepper well."

"Salt and pepper well?" Beca asked incredulously. "I don't think that's a thing."

"What? It is most definitely a thing! Here, try it."

He made a quick well and gestured for her to try it. She hesitated before dragging her French fry through the salt and pepper. She popped it in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"Well?" Jesse asked expectantly.

"Not half bad."

"Not half bad," he muttered, shaking his head. "I think your taste buds need to be checked."

She grinned and they continued their Valentine's Day meal.

* * *

"I am so full," Beca groaned, leaning back in her seat. "Why did you let me finish your fries?"

"You threatened me with bodily harm otherwise," he said, laughing. "You want me to come over there and rub your belly?"

"Come any closer and that threat of bodily harm will become less of a threat and more of a reality."

"So, I know we promised not to get each other anything," he began, standing up. "But, I sort of have something for you-"

"Jesse, we promised."

"I know, I know," he said dismissively. "But I didn't pay a penny for it. I promise."

Beca was mildly intrigued to see what this gift could be that cost him nothing, and she said, "Alright, I'll bite. What is it?"

He grinned a bit before walking over to the keyboard at the corner of the store. He sat down and said, "I wrote you a little something."

"What?"

"Now, don't get too excited," he said. "It's only a few lines. But, I heard it and it reminded me of you-"

"You heard it?"

He nodded. "I hear music. Sort of how the whole composing thing works."

She smiled slightly and said, "You heard me in music? I, uh…" she snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry, that's…"

She trailed off again and he responded by beginning to play. That was enough to effectively stop any laughter on her part. The melody he played was beautiful, and while she couldn't describe it, she could see herself in the piece. When he stopped she was speechless for the third time that night.

"Keeping your scathing remarks to yourself?" he teased.

"That was…" she trailed off, standing and walking over to him. She kissed him softly, hands framing his face. "You're too much sometimes, Jesse Swanson."

"So, you liked it?"

She nodded. "I more than liked it. You get some major boyfriend points for that." He pulled her onto his lap and she said, "I still don't have anything for you, though."

"I don't care."

"I do," she pressed. "You went and made me this song and-"

"I don't need anything," he told her firmly, kissing her cheek. "Having you is enough. Being here is enough."

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse."

"Happy Valentine's, Becks."

**A/N: Hope you all had a nice Valentine's Day!**


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